Far Away From Nowhere
by Ista
Summary: When Finn is captured by the First Order, Poe and BB-8 come up with a plan to rescue him. But could they be walking into a trap? Features some nice Finn/Poe bromance, BB-8 endangerment, angsty Rey, and Kylo's favorite type of psychological torment. Takes place about a month after The Force Awakens, so spoilers abound.
1. Paradigms Shifted

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Summary:** When Finn is captured by the First Order, Poe and BB-8 come up with a plan to rescue him. But could they be walking into a trap? Features some nice Finn/Poe bromance, BB-8 endangerment, angsty Rey, and Kylo's favorite type of psychological torment. Takes place about a month after _The Force Awakens_ , so **spoilers** abound. And, yes, this fic borrows a healthy amount of plot from _The Empire Strikes Back._

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Star Wars…_ Darn.

 **Warning:** Torture

 **Chapter 1: Paradigms Shifted**

The thought kept racing through Finn's mind: _It wasn't supposed to happen like this._

A probing heat pinched the metal brace along his back, causing him to grind his teeth with pain. But he wouldn't give Hux the satisfaction, or Kylo Pyschopath Ren, or any of them.

It had been a routine mission for the Resistance, his new family. A trade of information at a base that would give Mos Eisley a run for its money in terms of sleaze and villainy. He could have sworn he saw two cousins of Jabba the Hutt sprawled in the back, smoking something green, sweet, and sickening to look at.

It was supposed to be a straightforward trade. Get in, get out. Pass off the satchel of costly emeralds and sapphires for some classified First Order info, and get the heck out of Vera 5. Who could have ever come up with the idea to set up a trading post underground on a poisonous planet anyway? Buildings were carved into the stalagmites, black and glittering with minerals. For being closer to the planet's core, Vera 5 was frigid and smelled of sulfur.

Finn wrinkled his nose at the memory of his informant—a person whose eyes glinted yellow and whose nose (if one could call it that) permanently dripped. He should have known not to trust Jax D'Jen. It wasn't even five minutes after they had shaken hands when the Jen scuttled away with his bag of jewels and Finn was surrounded by stormtroopers and a row of blasters.

Now he lay on his stomach on a metal slab and tried not to think of Rey, or where she could possibly be at the moment, or Poe and BB8. Finn cringed. Poe would show up at the rendezvous point, and he wouldn't be there—then the pilot would come looking for him. Finn groaned at the thought. He would not forgive himself if his friend became captured because of him. Silently, he prayed that Poe would bring a heavy amount of back up with him if he were to locate his whereabouts in the underground city. The reason for his abduction would be easy to obtain; Vera 5 was under siege by the First Order.

Hot metal on metal screeched in his ears, and a searing along his back mirrored phantom pains that had plagued him ever since that snowy evening in the woods with Rey and Ren. Twin tears tracked down his cheeks, but he resigned himself to silence.

The swish of a door opening. Finn's eyes darted to the darkness behind him, which was beyond his peripheral vision. But he didn't need to see who it was to feel his presence.

 _Like someone sucked the cheerful out of the room_ , thought Finn. And it was more than that—a pervading evil that was ancient, tantalizing, and potent in its seduction. Finn could feel the Force reaching out to him, crushing and enticing at the same time, his mind growing fuzzy.

"Whatever you've got in mind, Kylo, it won't be enough to make me talk," he said slowly, concentrating.

The responding chuckle echoed like cold steel clanging around the interrogation room.

"What makes you think we want you to talk?" the deep mechanized voice queried, twisted delight in his tone.

"Torture for torture's sake usually isn't effective," Finn muttered, his back spasming, spirals of agony running up and down his spine.

The outline of Kylo Ren, positioned on his immediate right, was a shadow. "A traitor can't be choosy." He crept closer—the ominous dread growing closer to Finn, a physical sensation creeping across his skin. "You walked so perfectly into my trap, like an insect drawn to a flame."

As the Sith's apprentice drew closer, Finn focused his mind on pleasant memories. Sadly, the only happy memories he could recall occurred recently. Still, they filled his mind with images of Rey—streaking through space on the Falcon, the way she smiled excitedly when she worked out a problem with Han Solo's old ship. And Poe—a whoop of laughter as they shot into the sky together after fleeing the First Order, when Poe gave him his name. Waking up in the medical bay to BB-8's surprised chirps—the first face that popped into his sight was Poe's—tousled black hair, tan face, and tired eyes.

"Finn!" he had exclaimed. "Hey, you're back with us!" There was the pilot's broad smile, BB-8's cooing noises, and the scent of freshly baked bread wafting in from the cafeteria. That was when Finn knew that he was going to be all right.

The following day, he had taken his first tentative step, a med droid on his left, Poe securing his right shoulder.

"You got this, buddy. Nice 'n easy."

Finn had licked his lips, placing a cautious foot on the ground. Those first few days, he had been acutely aware of the mechanic brace along his back—its cool kiss stabilizing vertebrae that had been melted through by Ren's lightsaber. But he could feel the plate working as he gained his balance. Unsteady, he leaned on Poe in a fleeting second of panic.

A comforting squeeze on his shoulder and a supportive grin. Dameron repeated, "You got this."

The glow of peace and assurance in the pilot's eyes gave Finn a boost of strength, and he had walked slowly, stiffly, yet on his own, down the hallway.

Poe shouted in triumph, trying to wipe his eyes before Finn saw them, but it was too late.

"You okay?" Finn turned around, frowning.

Poe had run a hand through his hair, shaking his head emphatically. "Just a big day."

The warmth of this memory ended when all of the happiness Finn felt drained away, and he was only aware of the gloved hand touching his forehead. With the touch came an icy chill over his entire frame and a lump in his throat.

When Finn spoke, his voice came out rough and raw. "No matter how hard you try, you can't take them away from me."

"But that's exactly what I plan on doing," Kylo Ren taunted, the skull-shaped mask gleaming, gloating over him. "Once they join you. And they _will_ join you."

The mask leered closer, and Finn felt his eyes widen as the realization sunk in.

 _I'm the bait. I'm the BAIT._

A playful whisper was muffled by proximity and the mask. "What would happen if I removed this metal plate along your back?"

Knowing what would follow, Finn frantically dove back into the well of pleasant memories, but they were blocked to him now. All he was left with was the metal slab, the evil man in the cloak, the darkness, and the anticipation of more pain than he would be able to handle.

Finn had sworn he would not cry out, but that promise was broken the moment Kylo Ren tore the brace from his back.

* * *

Rey knew instantly that something was wrong. She was balancing on a tightrope above a rocky chasm, her staff in her hands, and the roaring ocean below, when she felt it. The stab of pain in her lower back was so intense that she lost her grip on the weapon.

"Finn!"

A flash of silver mask, a scream of agony. Images flickered in front of her: the sneer of General Hux, Finn cowered in a filthy corner, BB-8's neck craning over him in concern.

"Rey—concentrate!"

Luke's gravelly voice was stern but could not reach her as she not only _saw_ what would happen to her friend, but _felt_ it as well. Her eyelids fluttered as she lost balance on the tight rope, tipping over so that the churning mass of grey and blue water beneath began to drown out the ex-stormtrooper's cries as they mirrored her own. She was going to collide with the water in a matter of seconds.

"No!"

It was as if a thick tether had fastened onto her waist and resisted springing back. Rey felt the salty spray lick her face before she had the courage to open her eyes. She hung suspended, mere inches from the crushing waves, her arms and legs outstretched. Rey swallowed back the devastating emotion that nearly killed her and attempted to move her head, but her entire frame was frozen in place. Just like when Kylo Ren had captured her in the forest of Takodana.

 _Just what I need. Another man controlling my body. At least this one's trying to_ save _you._

"Th-thank s?" she called, face burning with embarrassment.

A sharp laugh devoid of amusement met her ears from the outcropping above.

"What have I told you about focus? About concentration?"

"It was Finn. He was…" Her voice cracked as she relived the terrifying emotions conveyed to her across the vastness of space. She could still feel the touch of Kylo Ren on her skin—Finn's skin—hear his apathetic dialogue. The pain of torture was only part of the horror of these memories—it was the pervading darkness that numbed her senses.

"Rey?"

She was too overwhelmed to reply. Moments later, Rey felt her body float upwards, away from the sea spray and above the cliff edge. Luke Skywalker's cloaked figure stood stark still against the green field, his flesh and blood hand outstretched, unblinking with attentiveness. If Rey hadn't been so preoccupied with worry, she would have felt another surge of awe for her mentor. How easy using the Force was for him! It never ceased to amaze and inspire her.

Luke set her gently on the ground, and she regained her own movement again. But instead of standing up and brushing herself off to try again, Rey remained crouched, fingers on her temples, trying to sort through the surges of feeling transmitted to her.

Luke approached his apprentice slowly, his left hand still extended, probing. After a while, he said gently, "Tell me what you see."

Rey almost didn't respond, or thought about a snarky response instead. Luke knew _exactly_ what she was seeing in her mind's eye—he had that ability. But with her body's fatigue from the past month's extreme physical training, and her perpetual headache from concentrating, she was too exhausted to disobey.

"It's Finn. He's in pain. Kylo Ren has him, or _will_ have him. Oh, it's awful!"

"What else?"

Rey opened her eyes, confused by what Skywalker meant. He was sitting beside her now, his face neutral and peaceful, as always. She new that he was trying to use this experience as a lesson, but the fact of the matter was that she had failed the day's exercise and found out Finn was in danger to boot. So she wasn't that keen on acquiescing.

"No."

Luke's eyebrows shifted in vague surprise.

"No?"

"No, I don't want to know what else will happen to him because it's terrible and—"

Luke placed his left hand on her shoulder. At the same time, she felt her breath even out, and her pulse normalized. The tranquility of the Force flooded her with much-needed relief and clarity.

"I know all you can feel is his fear, but fear—"

"Fear leads to the Dark Side, I _know,"_ Rey said, a mantra she had repeated so many times in the past few weeks that she was beginning to tire of it.

"And it will prevent you from processing this situation rationally," Skywalker said, never missing a beat. His voice was soft, eyes kind. "Delve deeper."

Rey didn't want to. She wanted no part of peering through the key hole of the uncertain future, an endless twisting tunnel of multiple outcomes, but she took a deep breath, shut her eyes tight, and zeroed in on the darkness.

"There's a cell… I—I see a dark cell and Finn is there. He… He's lying so still!"

"Keep going," came Luke's encouraging comments.

"And I see an X-wing landing on a deserted surface… above a city… the city is made of rock… underground? BB-8 is in the cell with Finn… And if BB-8 is there, it must mean Poe is there too. He's Finn's friend." The images began to flash more rapidly as she searched further into the future. Once again, she was overcome by fear, a looming evil, suffocating and complete, then misery and more misery.

"Steady," Luke whispered, sensing her distress. His voice was a balm to her aching mind, but Rey couldn't stop the endless cycle of events to unfold before her.

"Poe! He's being tortured too. And…"

Rey saw Dameron restrained to an elevated silver table, saw the red pouring from his side, and the uneven breaths, lagging and slowing She saw his eyes widen in panic, and then she saw the light fade from them—a glow that sparked and then was lost forever.

"No!" she screamed. "They kill him! He will die!"

The Jedi's apprentice jerked back to the present, shocked to find herself outside once more, the cold coastal wind whipping through her hair. Luke sat directly in front of her, holding her hand. Rey roughly wiped away streaks of tears that had fallen down her face without her knowledge. Skywalker was watching her closely, but he remained silent, as if waiting for her to make the first move.

"Right," she said, jaw set defiantly. "I'm going after them." She stood up, dizzy from the sudden movement, and walked to the large stone where she had set down her small pack of belongings.

"You must complete your training first," came Skywalker's unwavering voice behind her.

Rey's ire shot up. She had only enough patience for the old man, and though she respected him as much as his sister, General Organa, she wasn't going to sit around and wait.

"They're my friends!" she exclaimed. "And I _have_ to help them. What would you do if you were standing in my shoes?"

Luke stepped closer, and she could observe the deep lines etched into his skin, wrinkles from experience as much as from age. His eyes held so much pain and regret, and the frightening thing was that they reflected her own.

"I did the same thing you are about to do. And because of my impetuous and foolish decision, I almost lost Han forever."

Rey felt her eyes cloud over with the thought of Han Solo. "Would you do it again?"

Luke didn't blink. "In a heart beat." Then he flexed his metal appendage. "I would have given _both_ my hands for my friends."

Rey hesitated, the sight of Luke's metal mitt tapping into the enormous well of fear inside her. "Then you know why I have to go."

She slung the pack over her back. Running over the crest of a distant hill, R2-D2 whirred happily, inquiring about a lunch break. Rey would have to go back to the Falcon and discuss the new game plan with Chewie.

"Search your feelings," Luke said, such power in his words that they reverberated around the small island. "Why do you think the First Order have captured your friends?"

The young apprentice paused, her heart pulsating rapidly. Finn knew, deep down, and that meant she knew also. "They want me."

" _He_ wants you," Luke said.

"Kylo Ren."

"No, _Snoke_."

Rey turned around, her lips pursed, teeth set straight. "I will avoid confrontations. It will be a stealth mission only."

"Your anger will alert him," Luke countered.

"I will remain calm and mindful of the Force." Rey knew her assurances were pathetic, but she felt a hook caught in her chest that was pulling her towards Finn, and every minute spent apart tore another piece of her heart out.

"You know the planet they're being held on," she said, not a question.

Luke bit his lip. "I beg you not to go."

Rey felt her energy shimmer, her body in tune with the Force. She knew at that moment that she could see into the future—could see _her_ future—and it frightened and excited her at the same time. "Once they're safe, I'll return and complete my training. Master Luke, I promise."

Skywalker bowed his head. "The planet is Vera 5."

His apprentice nodded and left, racing quickly past R2-D2's confused shaking body and forced herself not to look back at the Jedi who had taught her so much.

* * *

"So there's this little place I want to take you after we pick up Finn," Poe said, making his descent.

BB-8 beeped inquisitively.

"It's on my home planet, and this restaurant has the best—"

BB-8 whirred with a series of sporadic beeps.

"What? Oh yeah—I'm sure they speak astromech."

The droid responded with a chirp.

"BB, I _promise_ to take you to the first Corellian harp concert I can find once we visit Yavin 4. I haven't forgotten how much you love that music. Anyway, where was I?"

BB-8 crooned, adjusting some calculations Poe had made a half hour ago.

"That's right," Dameron said, flashing a smile even though he knew no one could see it. "Time to pick up Finn!"

The best pilot in the Resistance landed his X-wing effortlessly on the surface of Vera 5. A thick green smog drifted across his cockpit window, revealing a dark desert world at night.

"Charming vacation spot," Poe said, removing his safety belt and stretching his sore joints after several hours of flying. "Remind me to never come back here."

BB-8 beeped in assurance.

Five minutes passed, then ten, then twenty. The droid signaled doubtfully, and Poe felt restless.

The pilot said," I've got a bad feeling about this."

Determined to figure out what was keeping his co-pilot and best gunman, Poe slipped on a gas mask, tightening the straps and pressing the button to open the cockpit.

BB-8 immediately sent sporadic and worried clicks his way.

"Don't worry, my friend. Just gonna take a look around."

Poe felt for the blaster at his side. An eternal optimist, regardless of the situation, Dameron was no fool either. He sensed that something had delayed Finn, and whatever the situation the ex-stormtrooper had gotten himself into this time, Poe would get him out.

Dameron had initially decided to inspect the rendezvous point alone, but he couldn't ignore BB-8's insistent beeps, so he pressed the mechanism that released the droid from its seat on the X-wing. Poe reached up and deftly grabbed his hefty mechanized friend, grunting as he set it down on the planet's surface. Rolling along side him, BB-8 seemed content to be included, but Poe was hesitant. He felt even more protective of the droid after what happened on Jakku, and the thought of being separated from his companion was unbearable. Dameron allowed BB-8 to go with him, but he would keep the droid in his sight at all times.

"Any signs of Finn?"

BB-8 dinged a negative.

Poe paused, scoping the area using the night vision goggles that hung around his neck. The specs picked up zilch, and the gaseous surface was eerie and quiet. All Dameron could hear was the sound of his own breath through the mask, in and out. This resonance was reminiscent of another man's mask he had encountered about a month ago. Poe shuddered.

Several feet away there were three elevators, just a few out of hundreds set up in various places on the planet for visitors to take to get to the city beneath its surface. All of a sudden, the center elevator lit along its base, flashing red lights, indicating that someone was heading to the surface.

Poe turned to the droid. "You see any other ships around here?"

BB-8's head toggled left and right.

Dameron's heart flip-flopped, and he sprinted toward the elevator. "C'mon, BB-8!" The droid spun around, rolling close to his heels.

Poe motioned the droid to remain close by him as he hid behind the elevator on the right and waited. As a reflex, his hand pulled out his blaster and held it by his thigh. Then he removed his night vision goggles and deposited them in the dirt nearby. BB-8 beeped impatiently, and Dameron held up a finger in front of his lips, calling for silence.

The wait was excruciating, but when the doors to the elevator finally opened and the white skull-like helmets of stormtroopers scurried out, Poe wished he had had more time to prepare. There was only one option now that it was clear Finn had been captured: Go down to the underground city and get him out.

The pilot tapped gently on BB-8's round head as it swiveled to look at him, and he made a gesture to move around the side as quietly as possible. The droid followed him as they snuck behind the stormtroopers, who were already headed toward the abandoned X-wing a short distance away.

"Check the vessel and surrounding area," one stormtrooper said to the other, her voice even more muffled than usual by the extra gas mask under their helmets.

"Yes, ma'am," the three others said.

Poe and BB-8 entered the right hand elevator smoothly, but the pair didn't count on the high-pitched noise the machine would make once Dameron punched the control button with the arrow pointing down. The rusty creaking was loud enough to catch the stormtrooper's attention, and they whipped around.

"So much for stealth," Poe muttered then scooted BB-8 behind him along the side of the elevator as the scouting party began firing on them. He lunged with his blaster, firing red beams across the dark desert, praying for the elevator doors to close before they were overrun. They did shut soon, but not before Poe was hit by enemy fire.

Dameron cried out, slamming against the wall and clutching his left shoulder. From the sound of shifting gears and rusty metal, he could tell they were heading to the subterranean outpost at a slow rate. At least that bought them a little time. Light shone dimly inside the ancient lift and flickered on and off, mimicking the rapid pace of Poe's heart. BB-8 whined next to him, its concern emanating in a series of shrill trills.

The pilot grit his teeth, examining the wound on his upper left shoulder.

"Don't worry, buddy. Just grazed me." Poe slid down the wall so that he was sitting at BB-8's level, making it easier to reassure the droid. "To tell you the truth, I'm more concerned about what's gonna be waiting for us when those doors open."

BB-8 whistled a sarcastic comment.

"Yeah, I reckon there's gonna be quite a cuddly welcoming committee. So what's the plan?"

Poe was positive that storming through the center of the city, blasters blazing, was _not_ going to work out in their favor, and every second the elevator descended, he felt his heart plummet with it. Finn was somewhere down there, and Dameron wasn't going to leave without him.

TBC

 **A/N:** This is my first ever "Star Wars" fic, written in a frenzy over the past couple of days after seeing the new film. Forgive me for any errors since I'm brand new to this fandom. There are at least two chapters after this, with much more Finn/Poe/Rey/Kylo action to follow. Since my vacation is almost over, I have absolutely no idea when I'll be able to type up and post the next chapter, but I will try my best to get it up within a week. I appreciate ALL feedback; let me know what you like, what you don't, and everything in between! Hope you enjoyed!


	2. In Screaming Color

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Warning:** Violence, Torture

 **Chapter 2: In Screaming Color**

Poe Dameron hissed as he ran his fingers over his shoulder and the blaster wound that had cut through his skin. Lucky for him that there wasn't any blood. In the meantime, BB-8 was trying to get his attention.

"I'm listening, I'm listening," the pilot said. "What's the plan?"

The white and orange droid spun around, indicating a hatch below the elevator that most likely led to a system of engineering tunnels. While BB-8 spouted its plan, Poe removed his mask after checking for proper ventilation in the compartment. He folded it up and deposited it in one of BB-8's internal storage containers.

"Absolutely not!" he said when the droid was finished. "I'm not letting you be bait."

BB-8 beeped, imploring, and Dameron had to give in. He agreed that the droid's plan was the only way both of them might have a chance to reach Finn.

"All right. Once we're inside their facility, I'm going to get Finn, then I'll find you."

The droid chirped with excitement, and Poe tapped its metal head with a warning.

"Don't be a hero!"

Delicately, Poe used BB-8 as a stair step, jimmying another hatch in the elevator's ceiling while the droid opened the one directly beneath it in the floor. Dameron hoisted himself through the opening, balancing on the roof of the elevator as it came to a screeching halt. The pilot signaled a thumbs-up to BB-8 before closing his hatch shut.

In a matter of seconds, the elevator door opened, and he heard a frantic scuffling of stormtroopers outside.

"Drop your weapon!" came the preemptive command before they had even noticed who was in the elevator.

Then Poe heard BB-8's emphatic chirps, insisting that his human companion had escaped through the lower hatch. Poe smirked to himself—he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised at BB-8's powers of deception. It had lived around people for so long, after all.

"Okay—" one of the bucket heads said, probably the leader. "You two, go after him. Droid—you're coming with us."

Dameron held his breath, hoping that the elevator had been disabled and wouldn't be heading back to the surface with him on top of it. He waited until the movement inside the elevator died down before swinging the hatch open and jumping lightly down. Flattening himself against the right wall and peering around the control panel, he spied three stormtroopers marching in a triangle shape around BB-8. Making sure there were no other goons in sight, Poe made a break for it, grateful that he would be able to blend in nicely with all the chaos this mecca had to offer.

Subterranean City glittered along its ceiling and floor, a place lit by a plethora of streetlights since it existed in perpetual night time. The center was a noisy area, packed with rows upon rows of market stalls. Smells of fresh spices and arrays of textiles and pottery dazzled the pilot, but his eyes remained fixed on his droid friend, bravely venturing into the First Order's newly seized territory.

Poe ducked behind a large lavender vase as the group approached a building marked CORRECTIONS, which must have been the city's governing facility and prison.

 _That's where Finn's being kept_ , he thought, hurrying after BB-8 and its guards. A tall gate opened before the foursome, and BB-8 hustled inside after looking back, a movement that was easy to miss if one were unfamiliar with the droid's body language. But Poe knew exactly what the look back meant.

 _He's looking for me_.

Dameron raced after them, but he was too late.

 _Blast!_ he thought. _Now what?_

Poe hid around the right-hand corner from the gate, observing the guards posted, checking for security cameras and hidden weapons before he set his plan of attack. Luckily, he didn't even need to devise a strategy before he felt someone tap him on the shoulder.

"You there—you're coming with me."

Poe whirled around to find himself face to face with a stormtrooper. Having barely any time to react, Poe used both fists (and a well-placed knee) to bring the guard down. The scuffle lasted all of five seconds and luckily took place in a dimly lit corner and thus invisible to the merchants in the public square.

"Thanks, friend," Dameron whispered to the now unconscious stormtrooper, dragging the man by his arms around the back of the building. "You just saved me a lot of time."

Carefully, Poe removed the pieces of suit from the stormtrooper, putting them on one at a time. He discarded his white vest and left it with the fallen guard. _Gonna miss that vest,_ he thought. When he removed the man's white helmet last, it reminded Poe of Finn and the first time he met his co-pilot, which only caused him to work faster. Dameron looked at the helmet with distaste, as if he had just been forced to eat the most disgusting food in the galaxy, and then he put it on. Lastly, Poe picked up the fallen stormtrooper's weapon, gripping it with an equal amount of insecurity and authority.

 _Stay calm, stay calm,_ he chanted to himself as he walked to the front of the First Order's commandeered base. _No wonder Finn was a nervous wreck as a stormtrooper. Is it possible to make a suit any_ more _uncomfortable?_

Although Dameron lived for stressful situations, he could feel sweat begin to drip down his brow and trickle into his clothing underneath the white shell suit.

A guard at the gate stopped him.

"Report."

"No sign of the Resistance pilot, sir," said Poe blandly, trying to sound bored.

The stormtrooper nodded and pressed a button, ushering him back inside. Poe bobbed his head in return and stepped into the building.

Once inside, Dameron moved steadily, without rushing. The key to undercover gigs such as this one was to take your time and avoid suspicion. Besides, it was tricky enough as it was moving smoothly in the white suit from hell. Poe couldn't wait to take it off. Working in a cockpit was one thing—being crammed into this suit was something else.

He studied a series of signs put in place for government officials and followed the marks leading to the prison. He was betting this was where Finn was being held. That was his chief concern at the moment. And thinking about his lost co-pilot was the only thing keeping Poe from dwelling on where they had taken BB-8.

A few guards passed him, but the path was relatively clear, and Poe's milky boots echoed on the slate floor. Lights illuminated each cell along the prison corridor, and Dameron checked in the front window of each one, expecting Finn to be there, but he wasn't. The pilot was beginning to think that he had gotten the wrong building, or had reached the underground city too late, when he came to the last cell.

 _Finn!_

It took Poe every ounce of professionalism and self-control he had not to shout out his friend's name as he viewed Finn through the small window of his cell door. He lay on an uncomfortable-looking cot that was built into the wall. Dameron pushed the unlocking mechanism after checking for company, and it sealed shut behind him with a hiss, the lights along the door emitting a green hue. Mercifully, the color meant that the door was unlocked and that they weren't both trapped. Still, Poe knew he only had a limited amount of time to get Finn out of there.

The Resistance pilot had expected for Finn to wake when the door opened, but the man continued to lie motionless, and that's when Dameron began to suspect something was definitely wrong.

"Finn," he said, voice muffled by the stormtrooper helmet, stepping towards him and kneeling.

There was no reaction; the young man's face was neutral, his chest rising and falling regularly.

"C'mon, buddy… Don't do this to me. Wake up!" Poe nudged him, pressing into his right shoulder.

Then—a miracle! Finn stirred, moaning, and his eyes opened, locking onto Poe's figure.

Dameron released the breath he had been holding. "Man, don't scare me like that!"

Confusion crossed Finn's face, then he flinched, hands pushing Poe away, scrambling.

"Get _away_ from me!"

 _Oh, right. The uniform._

"Hey, hey, hey!" Poe stepped backwards, arms out defensively, and he removed his helmet. "It's just me! Just me!" Dameron couldn't help but beam at the mild irony of the situation and the fact that they were reunited once more. When Finn smiled back at him in surprise, Poe was ready to grab him, find BB-8, and put this whole messed up day behind them.

But first came the inevitable banter.

"What are you doing here?" Finn asked, propping himself up on his elbows. Poe wondered why he didn't sit up and noted that his friend's voice was weaker, but he ignored those points and instead went to check on the hallway outside their cell, dropping his helmet.

"Saving you, of course. That's twice you owe me. Nice jacket, by the way."

It was tradition—Poe commenting on his old jacket whenever they met unexpectedly. The pilot had mended it after the incident with Kylo Nerfherder Ren, and it looked almost brand new. It also made Dameron content to see Finn wearing it, and after the events of this day, he would take anything he could get to cheer himself up.

"You should never have come here!" Finn said, an edge of panic in his tone.

The newly-found strength in Finn's voice reassured Poe. _There's the worrywart I know and love._

"Well, you're stuck with me, buddy." He checked the corridor again, but it was still deserted.

"And as a … a stormtrooper?" Finn spat it out as if it was a dirty word.

"Yeah, I guess I'm kinda small for a stormtrooper," Poe said, picking at the too-big pieces of the suit. "And how you breathed in one of these things for twenty years I can't imagine. It itches like crazy!"

"Poe—"

Dameron kept his eyes fixed on cell window, chuckling to himself. "I'd give anything to see the look on their faces when they discover how you've vanished."

"Poe, there's—"

The pilot was lost in his positivist daydream now. "We'll get out of here and find BB-8 and—"

"Poe, listen!"

Dameron turned around at Finn's outburst, cringing. Finn's head bowed, expression a mix of hopelessness and anger. Something was wrong. Poe had sensed it early on, and he should have checked in with his friend. He walked back to the ex-stormtrooper and knelt beside him.

"Are you okay? Finn?"

Finn looked up, apparent that he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

The pilot took a deep breath. _Here it comes._

"Poe, promise me you'll leave. Get BB-8 and get as far away from me as you can."

Dameron dared to flash a cocky smile. "Did you hit your head? I guess I'm not following you."

"Kylo Ren is here!"

The smile vanished from Poe's face, and a cold feeling replaced it.

"General Hux is here too. We were set up. They trapped me to trap you."

"For what purpose?" Poe didn't like where this was headed.

Finn's eyes glazed over. "To get to Rey."

Poe shook his head as if he didn't want to believe it. The news was a punch to the stomach. "How…How is that possible?" But even as he asked, Poe knew exactly what the First Order was planning to do. Rey was special—that's what Finn had told him so many times. And she must be. How could she have defeated Kylo Ren by herself, an untrained scavenger with a lightsaber? Her knowledge of the Force would be a valuable asset to the Dark Side. And if she wouldn't join them, they would kill her.

If Rey was Force-sensitive, the idea that she could pick up on Finn's emotions despite being systems apart was a good bet. She probably sensed him right now…

"All right, then let's get out of here before Rey has the chance to abandon her training." Poe took Finn's arm, determined to run. "Let's go _now."_

"Poe…" Finn slumped back against wall connected to his cot. "He removed my back brace. I…I can't walk."

Dameron felt his hand clench, a surge of anger welling in his heart toward the twisted man who hurt his friend for a second time. Not wanting to believe what Finn had said, Poe silently helped his friend shift to his side, gently feeling underneath his jacket for the brace. Instead, there was nothing but smooth skin.

"They must have healed me immediately afterwards, after I blacked out. Probably so they could continue torturing me. Now you know why I can't go with you, why you have to leave before it's too late."

 _No, no, no._

"I'm damaged goods," Finn continued, slamming his fist into the wall.

Poe put a steadying hand on Finn's shoulder. "Jacket looks pretty good to me."

Finn's eyes were cloudy, hopeless. "Better go."

"I'm not leaving you," Poe said, soft yet insistent. A fixed smile clicked into position on his face again. There was always a solution to every futile situation if you figured out how to beat your opponents. His mind raced. There was no way for him to physically carry Finn out of Corrections, but there'd be a chance if he could find a shipping trolley or a storage container. Yes, with BB-8's help, he could do this.

"Once we get back to the Resistance base, you'll be able to get a new plate and walk again. Don't worry. Sit tight, and I'll be back."

Finn harrumphed, arms crossed, clearly unconvinced.

"What?" Poe asked, sliding his helmet back on.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

"I prefer the term 'strong-willed,'" Dameron rattled off and tossed Finn a few protein bars, prisoner rations left by the cell entrance. Finn glared at him, rolling his eyes.

Poe winked. "I'll be back before you eat dinner."

* * *

The Resistance pilot shrugged off the feeling of inevitable doom as he continued exploring the government building. He forced himself to slow down and think.

 _Breathe in, breathe out. Don't let your hatred of that Ren bantha fodder cloud your reason._

By process of elimination, Poe eventually found a section of the prison where several droids were being held and repaired. He was anxious to find BB-8 and go back to rescue Finn. Poe was beginning to feel hungry too, and he didn't even want to think about the last time he'd slept or had a drink of water.

Luckily, a few familiar beeps echoed down a hallway, and Poe sprinted, searching through a window at a workroom one level down. General Hux loomed like a redheaded scarecrow before two stormtrooper technicians and BB-8. The droid swiveled its head, noticing Poe's appearance above, but Dameron gave a signal for silence. He needed to get the droid alone.

"We have found no useful information in this unit, General," reported one of the techs.

"Very well," Hux said, hands folded behind his back austerely. "Wipe its memory and program it for a new job. Or if that doesn't work, scrap it."

The first technician looked at the second as if hesitant. "Immediately, sir?"

Their leader nodded. "Perhaps program it for sanitation? That's where its traitor friend used to work."

Everything happened so quickly after that, Poe would have difficulty tracing the memories back to a clear chain of events. But he did remember BB-8 making a series of frantic, frightened trills, more heart wrenching than anything he'd ever heard from the droid before.

"Silence, you loathsome creature!" Hux snarled, brandishing an electrical tool and shocking the droid.

Electricity crackled over BB-8's shell as it squealed. Poe's heart hammered in his chest, and he screamed—partly for BB-8, partly for Finn, and partly because for the injustice of the Empire's malicious descendents. Automatically, Poe blasted through the window and leapt a story down, shards of glass flying past him as he fell, landing on top of General Hux and knocking him sideways. Poe's left shoulder twinged as he tumbled to the ground, and the General shrieked as he tried to tear away, but Poe gripped him tightly, using the man as a shield when the techs pointed their weapons at him. Dameron ripped his helmet off— _Ah, to breathe again_! And although Poe felt blood run down the shoulder that been previously shot, and he could feel bruises forming on his abdomen from an impact that a stormtrooper's suit couldn't protect, he never felt more alive.

Beside him, BB-8 chirped with relief.

"I'm here now," Poe reassured the droid. "They're not going to hurt you."

"Let me go!" Hux demanded, writhing in the pilot's grip, his face even paler than usual.

Poe responded by pointing his blaster at the cruel General's neck. "Drop your weapons, or he dies."

The techs exchanged a look.

"Well—what are you waiting for?" Hux screeched. "Drop your weapons!"

The two stormtroopers did as they were told.

Dameron's mind whirled. This had _definitely_ not been part of Plan A, B, or C. It was time to improvise.

"All right, General," he said, voice soft. "We're going for a walk to collect my friend, and then we'll be on our way. And if _we're_ not harmed, _you're_ not harmed."

Poe felt the room grow cold before he had time to react, and BB-8's agitated cries were too late a warning.

"It's an intriguing plan," came a flat tone, "but where do _I_ fit into it?"

Darkness swept through the room as Kylo Ren entered, dark cloak fluttering in his wake.

Dameron roared, his blaster aimed to fire at the dark lord when it shot out of his hand, and his body froze.

Flashbacks from Jakku haunted his memory. _No. Not this. Not again._ BB-8 whirled around his legs with concern, but Poe was completely paralyzed, unable to move or speak, fear beginning to worm its way into his brain.

Hux slipped out of his grasp and punched Poe in the gut. Kylo must have temporarily released the spell because Dameron doubled over then quickly recovered, baring his teeth and lunging at the General. Hux flinched, terror painted on his wan face, and he ran away briskly, running behind the fiend in the mask. That fiend responded by chuckling.

"I suppose that amused you," Hux spat at his counterpart.

"Yes," Kylo said plainly, stepping closer to the pilot who was now on his knees, putting himself between the droid and the Sith's apprentice.

"I admire you," Ren said to Poe. "You have much spirit. So much spirit waiting to be crushed."

"Good to see you too, Ben," muttered Poe. The briefest of thoughts flittered through the pilot's mind—how strange it was to know who this monster was now. Even stranger to remember playing with the monster as a child. "How's the whole 'evil' thing working out for you?"

Kylo knelt, inches from his face, hissing, animated. "You who do not know the Force like I do cannot begin to understand my power."

Dameron said, "Yeah, that's probably true. But I've studied the history books. And from what I can remember, it didn't work out too well for Darth Vader."

Ren stared at him, silent as death.

"Or did I read that wrong?"

Poe felt an increasing pressure on his windpipe coupled with a pulverizing weight on his mind, twisting his sanity.

 _Please get here soon, Rey._ The thought flitted through his consciousness in a moment of dread, and Dameron instantly regretted it. But Kylo Ren was searching inside of him again, tapping into his insecurities, grinding up his optimism, and dipping into pools of sadness and wells of guilt he had learned to lock away years ago because he wasn't the type of person to hold grudges.

Poe knew he wasn't strong enough to defeat Kylo's psychological torment, but he was going to try his hardest anyway.

 _My darkness doesn't belong to you. You can't use it to feed your own sickness. Get out of my head. GET OUT OF MY HEAD._

Choking, Poe struggled to breathe as BB-8 beeped loudly, running into his legs, desperate to help.

"It's…okay…" Poe tried to mutter. "I'll be all right…" Darkness closed in around his vision, yet the pilot persisted.

Then the compression on his throat stopped and Poe sank to the ground in relief, gasping for air. He felt for his droid's smooth round head, patting it, trying to comfort it.

Kylo Ren cocked his head, as if intrigued by the exchange between the pilot and droid. For the first time, he acknowledged the stormtrooper technicians and nodded at BB-8, indicating that they should take it away.

Poe felt his senses slipping away along with any control he might have felt over the situation, the day's trials sapping his strength and ability to think clearly, but he put his body in front of BB-8 in a last-ditch effort to save his friend.

"Do what you want with me. I'll do whatever you want. Just don't harm BB-8, or Finn."

"We do not negotiate—" Hux tried to chime in, but Ren silenced him with a single glance.

Kylo bent forward, matching Poe at his eye level. When the dark lord replied, Poe almost detected a hint of amusement in his voice. "I can agree to that. You see, we're expecting a very important guest soon, and we need to make sure she hurries. You will help with that."

Dameron nodded, his head hanging down weakly. Beside him, BB-8 trilled with concern, its lights blinking on and off.

"Take care of Finn," the pilot said to the droid with a small smile. Then Kylo Ren waved his hand and Poe crumpled to the floor, lying motionless. BB-8 rolled away with the technicians, wailing, and its cries mingled with the chilling laughter of the Supreme Leader's apprentice, echoing down the starkly lit halls of the Corrections facility.

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! I have been totally blown away by the response to this fic, and I plan to continue posting on a regular basis (at least once a week). Hope you enjoyed the overload of angst in this chapter! Please let me know what you liked and what you didn't. Reviews make me jump up and down and dance (awkwardly) with happiness. ^_^


	3. Our Little Vignette

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Warning:** Torture

 **Chapter 3: Our Little Vignette**

Finn wasn't expecting the door to his cell to open so quickly. He had just finished forcing down the tasteless and gritty protein bars Poe had tossed to him. He hadn't bothered to eat before, when he was on his own, but now (seeing as Poe had filled him with hope) the ex-stormtrooper was determined to get his strength back to help in any way he could in their escape.

He was in the process of massaging his legs, flexing the numb body parts, when his cell door slid open with a swish. Finn looked up, his heart brimming with expectation when he saw BB-8, but then he heard the worried bleeps and saw the door shut behind the droid, no disguised stormtrooper in tow.

Finn wished he could rush over to the droid and comfort it—its frazzled and worried beeps were breaking his heart. It was Poe. They had him. Finn slammed his palm down on the cot in frustration. This was all his fault. If he hadn't fallen so easily into Ren's trap…

"Where did they take him?"

BB-8 chirped, siding up to him. The droid didn't know, but he was with Kylo Laserbrain Ren, which was never a good thing.

Before, Finn had been resigned to remain in his cell and resist torture for as long as possible, but Rey's fate, Poe's fate, and possibly the rest of the galaxy's fate, rested with him. There was no way to stop Rey from coming to rescue them if she wanted to, but maybe he could make it easier for her to find them—throw some proverbial wrenches into the First Order's master plans. But how?

"BB-8," Finn said, pushing himself upright with some effort. "If I break into this wall panel, can you search the building's systems for some weak spots?"

The droid dinged eagerly. Perhaps it needed something to do to make it feel useful and get its mind off Poe. Finn could relate. As soon as they found a way to escape, Finn needed a solution to aid his mobility. He wracked his brain to figure it out while feeling for weaknesses in the plastic wall panels. BB-8 ringed, anxiety-ridden, beneath him.

"Don't worry—Poe will be all right." Finn smiled, reassuring, trying to be strong like his pilot friend. But the truth was he wasn't sure if any of them would be all right.

* * *

Chewbacca was a consummate professional, and Rey was grateful for the Wookie's penchant for rebelling against their original plans. It wasn't five minutes after she explained that Finn was in trouble that Chewie had flung himself headfirst, literally, into the Millennium Falcon's faulty hyperdrive circuits. Rey was left to plot a course and pack.

Weapons would be essential. They had half a dozen sometimes-working blasters, detonators, Chewbacca's handy bowcaster, and her lightsaber…

Rey felt for the lightsaber secured in the belt at her side, and she remembered when she had first met Luke Skywalker (The Legend). She had held it out for him to take, to claim it as his own.

He had searched her face and examined her soul, his mind reaching out to hers, but without domination or objectification.

 _No,_ he told her without vocalizing the word _._

Rey had nearly fallen to her knees and pleaded with the old man right then and there, but she held onto a degree of dignity by responding telepathically. She had come too far for him to refuse her offer.

 _Why? You are our only hope._

"Not anymore," Skywalker had answered, his voice rough from years of disuse. "I have made a vow never to harm another being ever again."

"Then I suppose I can just dispose of this," Rey said, and in a fit of frustration, she made a move to throw the weapon over the cliff edge and into the sea. But, for some strange reason, she stopped.

Something was different—as if the saber was _calling_ out to her, persuading her to stop because it _had_ a purpose in the future, that some good would come of it after all. Rey held it in both her palms, fearful and awestruck at the same time. She was so entranced by the possibilities her mind was shown that she never noticed Luke Skywalker step beside her.

He said, stoic, "It belongs to _you_ now."

Sitting in the pilot's seat of the Millennium Falcon, Rey took a deep breath.

 _How do I know that you were right?_

She still didn't believe it herself.

* * *

Far away, Poe Dameron heard someone screaming.

He was walking through the forest on his home planet, Yavin 4, at night. It was bitterly cold. He rubbed his hands together, puffing warm air into them to increase circulation. His orange pilot's jumpsuit and cream vest were always thick enough to cut into most frigid temperatures, but here he could _not_ get warm. It was unusual, he thought, to be walking on this path alone at night. He kept thinking that he had been here before, and that there was somewhere else he was _supposed_ to be, but as the giant massassi trees closed in around him, their branches seemed to dissolve his past and future until all that mattered was here and now.

He stopped dead in his tracks, ears pricked. Screaming again. It was faint, but he could pick up the sound as it carried on the wind. Then, up ahead, the flicker of a fire. He began to walk toward the light faster, wanting to solve this mystery and unravel the reason for why he was there.

In no time at all, Poe came upon the small fire, crackling like a candle in the midst of an enormous clearing. On his right rested an ancient tree, different than the other species in the forest. This tree practically hummed with energy, green and welcoming. On his left was a gaping cave; it was black and ominous, the stuff of nightmares. Poe approached the fire warily but was disappointed when it gave off no heat to fight the bitter chill of the woods. But this fire was also unique in that he could swear he saw pictures inside it, images changing constantly within the waves of its flames.

"Thank you for meeting me," came a small voice to his left.

Dameron whirled around, astounded to find a youngling of perhaps no more than ten years old. The boy was pale but tall for his age, with short black hair and dark lines under his eyes. He was familiar in an uncanny way.

"Were you the one screaming?" Poe asked. "Are you all right? Where are your parents?"

Something was so… not right about this scenario that Dameron felt like running away, but he was fixed to the spot, intrigued by this boy with eyes that seemed to reach inside his soul.

The youngling ignored his questions. "You're here to come with me. But first you must look into the fire and see your past."

Poe seemed to follow this logic, although it was absurd. He figured another question wouldn't hurt. "Why?"

"Because when _you_ see it, _I_ will be able to see it too. That's the way it works." The boy's tone was superior, but not unkind. Rather, there was a glimmer in his eyes that reflected the cold fire, an unnatural eagerness.

Suddenly, Poe doubled over as a SNAP echoed in his mind. However, like a phantom pain, the hurt ebbed away before he had time to dwell on it. In place of pain, the fire beckoned to him, coolly licking heatless wisps of smoke that drifted across his skin and into the crisp night air.

Unsure of what the right course of action would be, Poe gave the fire a chance, and the images that appeared in his mind were forever burned into his memory.

 _BB-8 was squealing from an electric shock. The droid called out to him._

 _Finn struggled to sit up in his cell, trying to force legs to move that would not respond. He looked frightened, all alone._

"Stop!" Poe cried, perhaps to the boy, or to the fire itself. He didn't want this; he didn't want to see his friends in pain.

But he couldn't look away, and the images continued.

 _Kylo Ren's gloved hand seemed to extend into his mind and pierced his will. Poe was too tired to resist. He broke and revealed BB-8's whereabouts. He betrayed his friend._

"Stop it!"

 _Finn lay still as death, and he had been that way for too many days to count. Poe sat in a chair by his bedside and pretended that he wasn't hungry or tired or counting the number of times he had prayed that Finn would just wake up wake up wake up._

"Why are you doing this?!"

 _A group of villagers on Jakku huddled close together. He saw the horror on the adults' faces and the uncertainty on the childrens' as he was led into one of the First Order transport vessels. The villagers were being rounded up by stormtroopers, calling out to him, questioning him, as if asking, "Why couldn't you save us, Resistance fighter?"_

"PLEASE!" Poe pleaded. The fire's pictures were driving him mad, eating away his reason with each image.

But his eyes remained fixed, and he was not prepared for the last picture—

 _His mother turned to him in slow motion. Her long dark hair caught in the wind, and she called out to him, something that he shouted for her to repeat, but she didn't hear him. Instead, she turned around with a smile, boarding her ship and flying off to a mission from which she would never return._

Abruptly, the fire crackled and extinguished itself, as though a bucket of water had been dumped on it. Only a whoosh of smoke and dying embers remained.

Dameron found himself on his knees, tears streaking down his cheeks. He hadn't even noticed them.

The hand on his shoulder made him jump. There was the boy again, his eyes still burning with a feverish intensity. His face echoed pure zeal. Had this child just viewed his most bitter memories, regrets, and sorrows? Did it somehow satisfy this unnatural youngling?

Dameron shivered. "Who are you? Why did you make me…?" His mouth couldn't form words—they only came out in a series of gasps and splutters.

The boy answered calmly. "My name is Ben. You saw these memories so that you would know the right path to follow, the path to your future." Then the boy pointed behind them to the cave, yawning open. "Where I dwell, the darkness erases all of your past: fears, weaknesses, guilt. The darkness makes you strong. It calls to all of us. Take my hand, Poe."

Dameron wanted to do as the boy said. He knew this child— _had_ known him a long time ago. And the cave sounded nice, a place where there would be no pain. But before he stood up, he heard a voice.

"Poe! Poe Dameron!"

Both the youngling and the pilot turned to gaze into the darkness of the forest. A small girl stood, defiant in her stance, long brown hair tied back in loops behind her head. And although the girl stood bravely, she appeared pale, scared, puffs of air escaping her lips as she screamed.

"You mustn't listen to him! Do not obey him! Run away, Poe! RUN AWAY!"

Dameron was torn. But before he stood up, he studied the boy's face once again, and this time it morphed, changing into a black metallic skull where his pale skin had been moments before. A chill flooded through the pilot's bones, colder than outside.

Poe backed away.

"It's not too late," Ben said, but this time his voice was muffled by the hellish mask. "You can still join me!"

Then the shadows of the cave seemed to bleed outside of its normal perimeters, spreading and pooling underneath the boy's feet, stretching out, as if it was alive. Poe knew without a doubt that these shadows sought to entangle him and drag him inside.

The pilot scrambled to his feet and ran through the dark forest, waking from the horrid hallucination to the sound of screams.

They had belonged to him after all.

* * *

BB-8 was the most intelligent droid Finn had ever had the pleasure to know. There was something to be said for ease of communicating in a common tongue, like C-3PO did, something comforting about the humanoid form, but BB-8 could convey nearly as much emotion through its lights and range of sounds. Finn now understood how both Rey and Poe came to love it, how they looked out for BB-8 like parents looking after a small child. And the more Finn worked with BB-8, the more he realized just how autonomous the little being was—how it probably aided its human counterparts as much as they helped it.

"Power surge?" Finn asked, working beside BB-8 when the droid reported its progress. "You could shut down the power in this entire building?"

BB-8 chirped, excited.

Finn could feel a small kernel of hope ignite inside him again. "That'd be great, but that wouldn't take care of the stormtroopers and their blasters."

Then the droid proceeded to relate the rest of its diagnostics. Turns out poisonous gas from the surface could be pumped through a waste chute to flood the building. As all the air was recycled through vents, the gas could take out any goons that stood in their way to freedom.

"Fantastic, BB-8!" Finn exclaimed. Things were really cooking now. But he paused. Aside from the fact that Finn still didn't know how he was going to get around, there was also one other problem. "How am I going to breathe? I can't hold my breath for more than a minute at a time."

BB-8 whistled and opened one of its compartments—out popped a folded-up gas mask.

Finn burst out with a whoop of joy. "All right—this is a plan! Now let me work on how I'm going to move while you finalize the hack. And make sure you only flood the prison block with the gas. We wouldn't want to strand Poe without a mask."

BB-8 beeped in agreement, and Finn practiced scooting around on his cot, warming up his arm muscles, grimacing at a twinge in his back. He had better figure this out soon—the longer they dallied, the longer Poe would be in the hands of Kylo Heavy Weather Ren.

And then—something happened neither the droid nor the ex-stormtrooper expected. Their cell door opened and white plastic arms deposited Poe onto the hard black floor. He lay where they left him.

"Poe!" Finn cried, his heart plummeting with terror—a sweep of mixed emotions. He felt relief for seeing the pilot again and an aching worry that the man lay motionless. "BB-8…" Finn's mind refused to work properly, so he was glad the droid picked up his meaning and raced over to its fallen companion, head swiveling left and right, nudging Poe's shoulder.

Poe lay partially on his side, one hand curled up by his face. BB-8 bumped into it, buzzing frantically, but there was still no response.

Finn prepared himself for the worst scenario. "BB, is he… Is he breathing?"

The droid trilled an affirmative, and then—a wonder—Dameron stirred.

Finn felt like he was miles away, and for being on the other side of the room and having no way to reach his friend, he may as well have been. But he still wanted to make sure that Dameron knew he was there.

"Poe, wake up! You can do it—c'mon!"

Slowly, the pilot stirred, moaning. Finn could see blood along a gash on his left shoulder, but that was the sole injury he could spot from his angle. He realized Poe should stay put until they assessed him. How Finn wanted to run over to his friend and check the man out himself! He silently cursed the First Order for the hundredth time that day for taking away his mobility. And his childhood. And a million other things.

 _Get hold of yourself. Poe first, revenge later._

"BB-8, make sure he doesn't hurt himself by getting up too quickly. Can you see where he's hurt?"

The droid warbled an "already on it" signal and circled their fallen comrade, scanning him.

"Hey—" A groan escaped from Poe's lips. "BB-8…" The pilot's eyes rolled open, his head stirring. "Where…?"

"Just stay still for a moment, Poe," said Finn. "BB-8's checking you out."

"Can…see that," Poe said weakly, his eyes blinking as if he couldn't believe what was going on. "Buddy, you… Are you okay?"

BB-8 paused in the middle of its work and circled back to its human. Then the droid made a noise Finn had never heard before—it crooned. It was the most delicate, soft, and musical intonation the ex-stormtrooper had ever heard. Poe seemed to react even more strongly to the sound, as if it struck a sensitive emotional chord in the man.

"Thought… I'd lost you guys," he rasped.

BB-8 continued the crooning as Poe's body shuddered, and he put a hand over his eyes, his back sinking to the cold floor again. Finn waited impatiently until the droid was finished checking the pilot and reported its findings. There was nothing physically wrong with him besides the gash on his shoulder and some bruises, but Poe's heart rate was sky high and weak—possibly a sign of shock.

"Can you get him to the cot?" Finn asked, biting his lip. There wasn't much he could do for Dameron but make him comfortable and pray that Rey would get there soon, as much as he loathed the thought. Or, better yet, Finn prayed that someone who was _not_ Rey would rescue them, because Rey was walking into a trap. And now that Poe was with them, and injured on top of that, their plan of escape had to be delayed, if not cancelled altogether.

BB-8 approached the current problem like it did any issue—steadily and with a bottomless wonder. It lilted Poe's name in astromech a few times, and Dameron lethargically raised his head, an involuntary response. From where Finn was watching the scene, he could tell Poe's eyes were bleary, and he seemed confused.

"BB?"

The droid chattered an encouraging string of positive remarks, like it was speaking to a child. Finn had never felt so much love and admiration for the little droid than at that moment. For something that wasn't human to know exactly what its companion needed was beyond Finn's comprehension of the world. Growing up in an atmosphere of sameness, unquestioning devotion, commands, and no sympathy, the little moments of kindness he experienced now were astounding.

Then BB-8 extended a thin, yet sturdy, metal claw from its outer shell, and Poe clamped onto it with one hand.

"All right," the pilot said, swallowing. "I'll try."

Dameron got to his knees and then gradually shuffled forward, using his other hand to reach out and grip the floor. Every few steps, he had to pause as tremors razed his body, but he continued with a modicum of determination. Finn whispered soothing words, although he wasn't sure if Poe could even hear them. BB-8 did an expert job guiding its friend to the cot. Once they were directly in front of Finn, BB-8 transferred Poe's arm to the ex-stormtrooper's grasp, and Finn used all of his upper body strength to lift the wavering man under his arms into a sitting position beside him. Finn placed a hand behind Poe's neck and propped his upper body against the wall so he would be more stable, then he began to examine the pilot.

"BB-8, water," Finn said, and the droid whisked away, its silence speaking more than language at the seriousness of the situation.

Finn sized up Poe, checking for further wounds. He trusted BB-8's diagnosis, but it was so unusual for his friend to be in such a state—he had never viewed Poe so vulnerable before. It was unnerving. The ex-stormtrooper traced the wound along Poe's shoulder. He used water from a cup BB-8 brought to dab water on the hurt and wash away the drying blood. After a few minutes, Dameron stirred, and his eyes flashed open.

"Finn?" The pilot looked completely surprised, shuddering. His eyes remained half-lidded, as if he was still asleep. "What…What are you d-doing here in the woods?"

Finn exchanged a quick glance with BB-8. Add delirium to the list of symptoms. But he tried to remain calm, unwilling to show his friend how frightened he really was.

"Relax, Poe. You're not in the woods. You're on Vera 5, remember? You came to rescue me."

Poe brought a hand up to his forehead but immediately took it away, a look of astonishment on his face, as if he didn't know he was sweating.

"N-no, there was a fire, remember? And I ran because the g-girl told me run." Poe crossed his arms to hold himself, breathing in and out.

"Shh, just relax," said Finn, taking the man's arm. He was worried that Poe would hurt himself if he got too worked up.

"S-so I ran from the boy. Ben. His n-name was Ben. No… _Ren_. It was Kylo Ren. I knew him, Finn. D-did you know that?"

Finn shook his head at the revelation.

"W-we grew up together. W-we were n-never best friends, but…"

Poe became increasingly agitated, then his mouth opened as if he had been stabbed, gasping for air.

"What's wrong?" Finn asked, frantic now. BB-8 whistled, circling between the two mens' legs in concern.

"Finn, he…He got inside my mind…That… That _thing_ got inside my mind and made me see…"

Finn had never seen Dameron cry before. Hell, he had never seen the man have a bad day in his life. Finn sometimes felt like his own life was a long list of worries, but Poe never had any complaints. And even though Finn had only known Poe a few weeks, other Resistance fighters he talked to, even General Organa, professed the same observations about their best pilot. Poe's personality was a bright spark; he was the most even-tempered and good-natured person Finn thought he would ever meet. It made Finn glow with pride when Poe's colleagues thanked him for saving their friend from the First Order. And after all Poe had done to help him recover after the Starkiller incident, Finn didn't know what he would do without this man and his smile.

So that's why, when Poe's tears began to well in his eyes and finally fall, Finn embraced the pilot and vowed that he would make Kylo Ren pay for hurting his friend—for exposing him to his own darkness.

 _No. I will not forget this._

"It's okay, it's okay," Finn said over and over, rubbing Poe's back. Then BB-8 began its soothing string of beeps, like a gentle melody, and Poe's breathing eventually returned to normal. But, dammit, he wouldn't stop shaking. Finn set Poe to rest along the wall and swiftly removed his jacket, lifting up Poe's arms to help him into it.

Poe sniffed, teeth chattering, and ran a hand over his eyes. "Wh-what are you d-doing?"

"Just what it looks like I'm doing," Finn said. "Attempting to put this jacket on you."

Dameron just stared, dovelike. BB-8 twittered, something that sounded like a chuckle, and Finn had to admit that his friend looked adorable when he was surprised, either too weak or too out of it, or both, to help Finn—instead letting him do all the work. Finn didn't mind. Anything to make Poe stop shaking, make him well again, make him smile again.

 _Come back to us, Poe._

"B-but the jacket belongs to you," the pilot said, his voice twenty years younger.

"Technically, it belongs to you," Finn countered.

"But I g-gave it to you," Poe said.

"Yeah, but you need it more than I do right now."

Poe made a move to wriggle out of the brown jacket, but Finn cupped the pilot's chin in his hand, forcing Dameron to look directly at him.

"The. Jacket. Stays. On. You. Are we clear?"

Poe bit his lip then nodded. "Y-yes."

"Good." Finn finished adjusting the collar then made sure the jacket was wrapped tightly around Dameron, keeping in its warmth. For a moment, it reminded Finn of the first time he saw Poe, being marched forcefully away by his fellow stormtroopers on Jakku. But even though the Resistance pilot's fate had been uncertain that night, there was defiance in his step. The way Poe had moved connoted his personality—cocky, yet sincere. Lost amidst the horror of that night, Finn had planted the image of Poe Dameron and his jacket in his mind as a possible escape route. He remembered thinking: _That man is my ticket out of this nightmare._

The jacket imbued Poe's heroic and unselfish traits. And without its touch on his skin, Finn felt naked in a way. Like he wasn't Finn anymore. More specifically, like he was FN-2187 again.

Finn shrugged off those thoughts and focused on his friend. He lifted the glass BB-8 had brought him and helped Poe take a few sips. Then, with a sigh, Poe slumped back against the wall, his head turned at an unnatural angle, his eyes closed and jaw slack. BB-8 beeped, hyper-aware of its buddy too.

"Don't worry. He's just exhausted—he's asleep."

 _Please let it just be that,_ Finn thought. _Not unconscious, or dying, or whatever._

Finn carefully grabbed Poe's upper body and shuffled his lower body (moving each leg at a time) to shift Poe into a supine position. Once he was lying down, Poe murmured in his sleep.

"Hmm?" Finn mumbled.

Poe's eyes darted open again, a look of pure panic. "Nowhere. It's all darkness and c-cold. So cold. The cave—it's calling to me, and I'm in the middle of it… in the middle of nowhere."

Finn took one of Poe's hands and squeezed it, catching his gaze.

"You're far away from nowhere, Poe. You're here, with BB-8. And you're here with me."

Finn swallowed back the bitter taste of anger towards Kylo Ren when he saw the haunted look in his friend's eyes, slowing glazing over and finally slipping closed into sleep.

The ex-stormtrooper turned to BB-8, his body tingling with anger.

"Change of plans. We're going to have to find some other way to get out of here. Soon."

BB-8 crooned in agreement, its speech tinged with sadness.

Finn sat for several hours, frozen in place as Poe slept fitfully. And although Finn was lost in thought, he never let go of his friend's hand. Not once.

TBC

 **A/N:** This chapter contains the scenes and feels that originally inspired me to write this fic. I love playing with the dynamics of various characters. And I'm all over the jacket thing. And the lip-biting thing. Poor Poe! Don't worry—I haven't finished with his suffering just yet (if you're into that kind of thing like I am). More Rey and Kylo to follow—I'm just starting to experiment with their narrations. Gah! This fic is consuming my life, and I LOVE IT! Thank you soooooo much for all the wonderful comments and favorites and follows. I am truly blown away by the continued support and response. Reviews are always appreciated and make me air-guitar like nobody's business. Hope you enjoyed!


	4. Something Tragic About You

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Warning:** Torture

 **Chapter 4: Something Tragic About You**

Although it only took a matter of seconds for Chewie and Rey to reach Vera 5 via the perpetually temperamental hyperdrive, they circled the planet for nearly an hour, searching for an adequate spot to land. Both were hoping to find a method to transport the _Falcon_ via supply shipments (or something akin to shipments) underground. The entrances and exits to Subterranean City were being too closely guarded by the First Order, but the Wookie had some tricks up his hairy sleeves. He moaned a reassurance that he would find something while Rey prepared herself for the inevitable. She was going to have face the man again who killed Han Solo. Solo's son. The thought left Rey's skin prickling and her mouth dry.

 _Why? Why did I just rush off like that against Master Luke's orders?_

She knew why—it was because of Poe and BB-8, but it was mostly because of Finn. Rey felt a stab of guilt that had tormented her ever since the day she kissed his forehead in the medical bay and abandoned him while he lay unconscious, newly saved from the brink of death. Rey knew that BB-8 and Poe would look out for Finn—she had no doubt of the droid's loyalty, and even though she had never met Poe officially, and had only seen him in passing, the fleeting glance they exchanged before her departure, left Rey with the sense that she could trust the Resistance pilot implicitly. Dameron might not have abilities connected directly to the Force, but she could see the impact it had on his life.

Still, Rey felt responsible for the situation—for Finn's and Poe's imprisonment. Perhaps none of this would have happened if she hadn't gone gallivanting into the outer reaches of the galaxy to pursue her own selfish curiosity, to uncover the relic of a Jedi, the last remnant of an extinct race.

 _No, not quite extinct._

Rey was training to be a Jedi. She knew Skywalker was grooming her for the ultimate showdown against Kylo Lunatic Ren, and now she had gone and abandoned her mentor before her training was complete. Rey was starting to remind herself of her parents. When they had left her on Jakku so many years ago, were they running _after_ something, or running _away_? She just hoped what they had been running away from wasn't _her._

The Jedi-in-training shifted out of her reverie abruptly. Something was _wrong._ The first thing she sensed was a pervasive cold. Rey sipped in frigid air and realized that the Force was once again showing her what was happening to her friends. Though whether this was part of the past, present, or future, she couldn't tell.

Rey stepped into the vision like walking through a door. The cockpit of the Millennium Falcon vanished, and she was ambling through a vast forest, darker than the bottom of an ocean. It reminded her, at first, of the woods on Takodana, or Starkiller (minus the snow), but this forest was different. The trees were more massive, for one. And, aside from the chilling temperature, the deep aura of evil was drilling, humming, and all-encompassing.

 _Where am I?_ she thought to herself. Rey could have sworn there was something ancient about this place—something primitive. The sounds of hungry animals made gave her pause. Their yellow eyes shone from the shadows the forest had to offer. Was this a dreamscape? It was certainly not Vera 5.

 _Am I dreaming?_

The farther she walked, the more illumination painted the trees silver. A glow in the distance became steadier and brighter. It was a fire! Rey felt the Force surrounding it. She felt it shift and change, and Rey began sprinting towards it. Perhaps this was a key. Anything to guide her through this perceived nightmare.

When she finally reached the fire, it flickered in the center of an immense clearing. Hovering above it to her right was an old tree; a green and amber glow surrounded it, connoting its health and connection to the Force. More so than the fire, this tree embodied the Force.

Rey was so taken with the stature of the ancient tree that she almost didn't notice that there were two other people in the clearing with her. A man stood, his back to her, and he faced a boy. The boy was tall for his age , with piercing eyes and jet black hair.

 _I know you_ , Rey thought.

She couldn't make out what the boy was saying, but his presence appeared to be feeding the giant cave behind him, and Rey flinched. This landmark was so ominous, it threatened to swallow up the entire clearing. Whatever the boy was saying, he was also clearly upsetting the man who was dressed in an orange flight suit and white vest.

"Poe."

When she spoke, the scene before her began to blur, as if it was composed of particles as fine as sand and was suddenly being blown away, smearing the vision like a painting. She shut her mouth abruptly.

The fire. It had something to do with the fire. Rey used her abilities to focus on it, and she was astounded to find snapshots of a life inside—memories.

 _I'm viewing Poe's memories,_ Rey thought.

Then: _I'm in his mind._

Rey shivered and looked away, not wanting to invade the man's privacy, but not before she had glimpsed half a dozen visuals: children laughing and running through the woods, a beautiful woman with long black hair and Poe's eyes, stars spinning as he flew through space, joking with BB-8 over a bowl of mash, and Finn—Finn wearing a stormtrooper outfit and gripping Poe by the shoulders the first time they met.

When Rey broke off from the fire, she watched Poe sink to his knees, his shoulders heaving up and down with each ragged breath. He was crying! Rey discerned that the boy wanted Poe to join him, drawing him to the cave. Poe looked at the fire again and shook his head.

 _Poe's not seeing what I'm seeing._

Rey reached out with her mind carefully, trying to disturb the scene, searching for the boy's consciousness this time. What she met was the blazing frenzy of a crimson lightsaber and a silver mask. The horror of his father's eyes as the saber plunged into his body.

 _It's Kylo. He's manipulating the Force._

Rey struggled to comprehend what Kylo was doing, and then it became all too clear, the pieces fitting together in a twisted puzzle.

 _He's opened Poe's mind._

 _To do what?_

 _To break it._

Then Rey found herself screaming at the pilot to turn away from the boy and the cave. She screamed although she didn't know if Poe could hear her, and then she was gone, her spiritual form vanishing in a breeze as the clearing unraveled around her.

Chewie barked at Rey, not unkindly, and Rey jumped. She was back in the present, back in the cockpit of the _Millennium Falcon_.

"I'm here," she said, trying to disguise the shakiness in her voice.

 _What just happened?_

Chewbacca had found a method to destroy one of the loading bay's sensors long enough to overcome a few guards and take the _Falcon_ underground.

Rey felt for the lightsaber on her hip and steadied her breathing.

"Let's do it."

* * *

Poe woke up as if breaking the surface of a freezing river. His eyes snapped open, and he took in a blurry-at-first grey ceiling. The next things he noticed were physical sensations—cool beads of sweat all over his body that stuck to his orange flight uniform ( _Thank the Force to be out of that trooper suit!)_ and the remnants of a pounding headache. His stomach grumbled with hunger, his ribs throbbed, and Poe felt for a gash along his left shoulder. But when he moved a hand to find the scrape, it met a smooth and slippery fabric instead.

 _It's my jacket._

All in all, not the worst Poe Dameron had ever felt after being captured by the First Order.

Then Poe struggled to remember the details. There had been Finn-yes. The need to rescue Finn. And BB-8. But he couldn't remember anything else. He was conscious—correct—and he felt the familiar enthusiastic drive to _get up_ and _do something_ with the day… But something was definitely _different._

Something had _changed._

And it frustrated Poe to no end that he couldn't put a finger on what exactly was wrong with him. On top of that, Poe was still confused about the whole "jacket" thing.

 _Why am I wearing my old jacket? Why doesn't Finn have it?_

 _Finn._

A sudden crash in the room diverted his attention away from his own problems.

"Gah! BB-8, can we have some finesse, please? We almost woke up Poe!"

The pilot's eyes swiveled to his right and saw Finn sprawled on the floor, his legs twisted back at an odd angle, BB-8 beeping next to him. Poe immediately tried to talk, tried to sit up, tried to do anything, but an overwhelming wave of weakness washed over him, and blood pounded in his ears. So Poe took a quiet breath and waited. No sense in getting up and hurting himself—it would only make Finn worry. And it looked like Finn and the droid had enough on their plates right now.

So Poe watched with curiosity at first, then fascination, then admiration, as Finn worked with BB-8 on solving his lack of mobility issue.

"All right, BB-8. Let's try this again, but not so fast."

Grabbing onto the wall and BB-8 for support, Finn managed to lift himself into a sitting position in a nearby chair, his lifeless legs following his torso. Next, he used the droid's head and the wall for balance as he carefully folded each leg at the knee and launched himself onto the circular body of the droid, its head hanging as far to the right as it could stretch.

"So far, so good," Finn said, his face a careful mask of concentration.

BB-8 chirped a question.

"Okay—let's try it again. Remember—slow."

BB-8 whistled and began to cycle forward, its smooth globular body only moving forward as much as Finn could handle before the man pushed himself backwards with the momentum. It was an awkward dance to watch, but also a miracle of teamwork as Finn kept his left hand on the wall and the other on BB-8's body to stabilize his legs and ride with the droid. After they had made it all the way down the length of the cell they practiced turning a corner and made a trek along the north wall, the one parallel to Poe's bench.

The droid asked if it could go faster.

"All right," Finn said with a huff. "Let's try it."

Although the ex-stormtrooper was wobbly at first, BB-8 was infinitely patient with him, and they practiced circling around, moving down the width of the cell back and forth, back and forth, until Finn felt comfortable. He let out a soft cry of laughter, a smile breaking across his features.

"We did it, BB-8! We did it!" And the droid squealed happily.

Poe couldn't stay silent any longer. His body finally allowed him to move, and he sat up slowly.

"Amazing!"

Finn and BB-8 looked at him immediately. A flicker of concern crossed Finn's face.

"Poe! What are you doing up?"

The pair quickly made their way back to him, Finn balancing like an expert now. Poe stood up when he saw Finn waver, and the pilot was mildly surprised that his body complied. Not even any light-headedness.

 _Seriously. What happened?_ he thought, mildly irritated.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Finn started. "Don't get up!"

"Finn, calm down. I feel fine," said Poe with a dopey grin. It wasn't a total lie. He felt average for the most part. But, then again, there _was_ something off. Poe shrugged and went to Finn, bracing his arm and helping him back to the cot, still warm from his occupancy.

"What do you remember?" Finn said, serious now. Poe wasn't sure if he liked the look on his friend's face.

Poe thought back again and honestly couldn't recall much. "Must've been captured. Torture? I feel kinda beat up."

BB-8 trilled, alerting Finn. "Yeah, BB-8 told me that you leapt an entire story and landed on top of General Hux."

"Oh." Dameron faintly remembered shards of glass flying past his face, the sneer on the General's pale face. "Yeah, that might've happened."

"What the hell were you thinking?" Finn burst out. "Did you even think far enough ahead to understand what the consequences of that might be?"

Poe wasn't sure he liked where this was heading. "Capture?"

Finn rolled his eyes at the same time BB-8 broke into a series of sharp, berating beeps. Poe sat down hard on the bench. This was the first time the droid had _chastised_ him. He didn't even know the droid _could_ chastise him.

"Poe, you're the pilot who destroyed the Starkiller Base."

Dameron chuckled at the memory, but downplayed the accomplishment. "It wasn't _just_ me. I had help."

Finn looked like he was about to smack him. "You destroyed Hux's pet project, his baby. You cut the heart out of the First Order, and then you just happen to knock down one of their top leaders. This is _not_ good for you!"

Poe ran a hand through his hair nervously. "So… When do we escape?"

This time Finn smacked his _own_ forehead, moaning. "The truth is—we don't."

BB-8 confirmed the statement with an emphatic beep.

"But you seem to move pretty fast," Poe countered.

"Yeah, when the ground is even, and I have a wall for support," Finn said sarcastically, "we move like the wind."

"So, I'll help you," insisted Poe, standing and pacing. He had newfound energy, and that unnerving nagging feeling of dread deep down. He needed to get away. Soon.

Finn looked at his friend gravely. "When the guards dropped you in here hours ago, you… You were in a bad way, Poe. We were worried about you."

Dameron stopped pacing, his mind searching back for any awareness of what had happened, but there was nothing—a void. And then—a flash of something. A flame? And a face. A boy with hollowed-out eyes that spilled black pools of ink down pale cheeks. The boy was smiling as his eyes bled, calling to him.

 _I got to peek inside your head._

"Poe!"

Expressive clicks and whirs. He could feel BB-8's metal shell drumming up against his legs, an act usually only reserved for meetings after a long time apart, or orders for a new mission. But this was something entirely new. Worry.

 _It's worried about me._

Dameron found himself leaning against the cell wall, a hand pressed to his forehead because now he felt a dull ache. Tremors ran through him.

The thought popped into his mind again, desperate: _What's happening to me?_

"It's okay, BB-8," said Poe, kneeling down to the droid, stroking its smooth metal head.

"Poe," Finn said, and the pilot acknowledged him. "Come and sit down."

Thus Dameron's bravado was knocked down a peg. He nodded and sat beside the ex-stormtrooper, fiddling with the seams of his coat to keep from losing his sanity altogether. Or what was left of it.

"Hey," Finn interjected to break up the silence. Or maybe Finn didn't know what else to say to him anymore, the One Helluva Pilot reduced to A Few Jawas Short of a Podrace. "Nice jacket."

That line would always coax a smile from Poe, no matter who was wearing it. "Thanks."

"You want to tell me what's going on?"

Poe weighed his options. Since _he_ didn't really know, there was no sense worrying Finn, so he tried an alternate explanation. "Just tired. Sore. Hungry."

Finn exchanged a dubious look with BB-8.

 _Since when did those two do that?_

"Now I feel bad for eating all the grub," said Finn. "If I had known we'd be extending our vacation down here, I would have saved one of the wretched protein bars for you."

Poe laughed, but there was no humor in his response. All of his instincts were telling him to flee when being reunited with BB-8 and Finn should have been a respite and piece of paradise.

And then the door to the cell opened and stormtroopers entered. Two of them. And Poe knew the honeymoon was over.

"Come with us," one of them said to Poe.

Finn bristled, sitting up straight. "What for?"

Poe felt his knees go weak and his head began to throb. A chill ran through him. It was Kylo Ren again. It had to be. And Poe felt like he was under water all of a sudden, drowning, clawing his way to a surface just beyond his reach.

"General Hux's orders."

Finn may have cried out in anger, but Hux's name was music to Poe's ears. Because it wasn't the _other_ guy. Hux would mean physical torture, most likely. Physical pain Poe could handle and had been trained to handle. But that other kind…

Dameron stood up, almost plucky. "Hey, guys! Let me guess—things got kinda boring without me."

Finn reached out to grab his arm. "Wait…" His eyes were wide with apprehension.

Consolation Poe could handle too. He was great at reassuring his friends about almost everything, including an uncertain future. "It's going to be all right." He stooped down to pat BB-8's head again as the droid cooed. "You look out for each other."

He was about to release himself to the FO goons but then paused and delicately removed his jacket, bequeathing it to Finn.

At first, his co-pilot wouldn't take it. He pushed Poe's fist away.

"Keep it," Poe asserted. He wanted to add, _Just in case._ But he felt the words were unnecessary. The real reason was that Poe _knew_ where he was headed, and all he could picture was the pain and agony and…Let's face it: bloodstains would be difficult to remove from this fabric.

"It looks better on you anyway," Poe said, and he meant it.

Finn took the jacket and Poe was led away. One stormtrooper stayed behind to guard Poe's back, and he turned around before the door closed.

"You now this is the last time you're going to see your friend alive, don't you?"

Finn's glare was dagger-like. "That's a lie."

"No," the stormtrooper gloated, clearly enjoying his job as messenger boy. "Your pilot friend made a deal with Kylo Ren. His life for yours."

BB-8 lit up with indignation, reeling towards the cell door.

All Poe could do was shrug, his hands outstretched with palms facing up. Perhaps he was asking forgiveness for something he didn't remember doing. But he wasn't sorry.

"Poe!" Finn screamed and just caught Dameron's gaze of admission before the cell door shut behind him.

* * *

Kylo Ren was having a good dream.

Poe was there, and the tree. It was a re-working of a memory from his childhood. The setting was a sunny afternoon on Yavin 4. Poe and Ben were playing by the tree that grew close to their homes. It was large and immeasurably green, with full foliage, giant braches, and soft needles. The branches swooped and climbed. Eternally tall, just staring up at its steep height could make you dizzy.

Poe wanted to climb it; Ben wanted to conquer it.

The General's son threw a jagged stone at the tree and giggled. Even though he was three years younger than Poe, and only five, Ben had schemes. Poe was an adventurous playmate, but he had no thrill of danger.

"If we could just get up high enough to cut one of the branches," Ben thought out loud. "It'd make a great saber."

Ben knew the idea was one that would likely get them into some degree of trouble, but those were the risks you had to take to get what you wanted in life. Even for a five year old, Ben knew how to calculate those risks.

Poe looked apprehensive. "Why don't we just catch stintarils instead?"

His older friend was trying to distract him—another technique of the weak-hearted. Ben played the glum-face card, which also came with the threat of potential tears.

Poe relented. "Race you to the top?"

Eagerly, the boys approached the enormous green tree and began to climb it on opposite sides. Although Poe's legs were a little longer and he found the branches beckoned his weight, he was nowhere near as fast as Ben. The General's son glided up the vertical tree as if its limbs were guiding him along. Ben caught the older boy climbing out of the corner of his eye and chuckled to himself. Poe paced himself well, but it was clear who the victor of the day's challenge would be.

When Ben reached the top, he whooped out in triumph. Poe joined him shortly after, admiring the view, looking down at a vast ocean of green treetops, a lush canopy kissing a bright blue sky. Out of breath, Poe seemed pleased with his decision until he noticed what Ben was doing.

The five year-old broke off a spindly, yet ancient, branch and succinctly snapped it in half, tossing it down.

"Ben" Poe admonished sharply, reaching out to grab him, but he was interrupted by the distant call from an elder.

"Boys? Come down! Now!"

Ben grinned from ear to ear. "It's your grandfather."

Poe's face blanched. "See what you did?" He pushed Ben lightly on the shoulder. "We should never have come up here. And you shouldn't have…hurt the tree."

"It's just a tree!" Ben protested, but even as he said it, the wind picked up around them, causing the tree to bend and shake. Poe grabbed hold of the trunk to stabalize himself, but Ben squealed, clinging to the branch when his feet slipped out from under him. Ben had never been fond of heights.

"It's okay." Poe tried to comfort him. "Just don't look down."

Ben swallowed thickly, the canopy of trees spinning before his eyes. "Too late."

"BOYS!" came the elder's voice, louder this time. "What did I say?"

"We're coming, grandfather," Poe shouted down, cupping his hands over his mouth.

The older boy nudged Ben to move, but he was frozen to the spot, his eyes fixed downwards. Poe's words suddenly distorted, losing all meaning. Ben was convinced that if he even breathed too loudly, he would lose his grip on the tree, fall for an eternity, and crash to the forest floor, just like the stick he had tossed down a few minutes ago.

"Hey," came a voice in his ear.

Ben looked up fearfully to find Poe hunched next to him. Poe had managed to scoot over to his side of the tree. Ben should have known Poe would help him. Poe wasn't afraid of heights.

The older boy's face was gentle. "Just take my hand. I'll help you."

"C-can't," stuttered Ben. "I-I'm scared."

"It'll be fine," Poe said. "C'mon."

Slowly, the pair made their way down the giant tree, and when they finally reached the bottom, Poe's grandfather was waiting for them, arms crossed and glowering.

 _Now we're gonna get it_ , Ben thought, but he wasn't particularly worried about the old man. He was just glad to be out of that tree, on solid ground.

But instead of berating and punishing them, Poe's grandfather sat them down in a circle and told them the secret of this tree—it had been a gift to Poe's family from Ben's uncle, none other than Luke Weirdo Skywalker himself. The tree was Force-sensitive and represented all of the good the Force had accomplished in the galaxy to bring peace and unity to so many different groups of people, blah blah blah. Poe's mouth opened in astonishment as he listened, but Ben began to tune out the old man's tale as another voice took over his consciousness.

 _You hurt me, young one. You took what did not belong to you._

These words flowed through his mind, and Ben was confused at first. Who was trying to communicate with him? And then his eyes fell on the broken branch that he had tossed from the tree, like a discarded digit. It radiated energy from the Force and something else… _pain_. Like a burn.

It was the tree. The tree was speaking to him.

 _You must learn patience. You took what did not belong to you._

Ben tried to stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks, but he couldn't. Poe's grandfather stopped his story and attempted to draw him close, to comfort him, but Ben scrambled away and ran off, crying.

"I just wanted a piece for myself!"

Kylo Ren woke as if from a falling dream, jerking upright. He couldn't breathe.

TBC

 **A/N:** I realize we're a little slow on the action in this chapter, folks. I've been living with day three of Killer Headache From Purgatory, and it's a miracle I can string three sentences together. So—apologies! Lots of action and angst and feels in the next chapter, which might be the last one. And then I'm considering either a sequel or just adding more chapters to this one at a later date. This story is taking on a life of its own that I never anticipated. That said, I'm truly honored to write for y'all! Let me know what you like, what you don't like, and maybe what you'd like to see more of? Reviews always make me dance like MJ and bake cupcakes. I'll send you cupcakes through the interwebs. Is that possible? I don't know. I'm going to make it happen. Did I mention my head hurts? Peace OUT.


	5. Your Eyes, They Look So Dim

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Warning:** Graphic Torture, Violence

 **Chapter 5: Your Eyes, They Look So Dim**

Kylo Ren couldn't breathe.

 _Order. A legacy. Return to the legacy. The precedence. There is precedence. I am the precedence._

He just couldn't get the dream out of his head. There had been the branch, the tree, Poe, the voice of the ancient spirit echoing in his mind.

 _Breathe. Can't breathe._

So Kylo Ren immediately chanted the mantra in his head, something he had done countless times before. This was not the first time he had been flung into a panic, all alone in his cell, when a memory had triggered depths of emotion he had vowed to suppress years ago.

He turned to the mantra.

 _Grandfather, I look to you for Order. I follow your Legacy. Show me the Dark Side. Grandfather, I look to you for Order. I follow your Legacy. Show me the Dark Side. Show me the Dark Side. The Dark Side._

 _Order. Legacy._

 _Breathe._

Slowly, Kylo's breaths evened out, and he released the covers he had been clenching so tightly a moment before. He ran a gloved hand through his long black hair.

 _Order. Legacy. Precedence._

He had not anticipated the emotional response generated after interrogating the pilot. It was illogical and foolish. Kylo hadn't seen the man for years when they had met unexpectedly on Jakku, but something had stuck with him after their initial meeting.

Kylo felt himself straying and clenched his fists, falling on his knees beside his bunk and reaching out his mind to Supreme Leader Snoke—the one who would show him his true potential. The one who would complete his training after he brought in Rey.

The small voice crept into his consciousness like a spider.

 _-Do you have the girl?_

"Not yet, Supreme Leader, but she is close. I feel it."

 _-She will fall into our trap perfectly._

"Yes, Supreme Leader. And I sense she is coming alone. Skywalker does not want to fight anymore."

 _-This will be advantageous to us. Let the Jedi fade away and rot on that rock of his._

"Mmm," Kylo murmured in agreement and tried to focus his thoughts. But the remnants of the dream kept interfering with his connection to Snoke. Again, the face of Poe Dameron kept alighting in his memory. Dameron had only been eight years old when he left Yavin 4. Ren had destroyed a newly budding flower garden when he heard. _No, that hadn't been Ren. Ben had done that._

 _-I sense indecision._

Snoke's voice was icy-cold, barely above a whisper this time, and Kylo struggled to concentrate.

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

 _-Concerning the young Resistance pilot._

"I…Ben knew him when we… when they were young, Supreme Leader."

 _-Then you must kill him as you killed your father. Sever all ties to your past that weaken you._

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

 _-Kill the pilot, and bring me the girl._

Snoke's presence evaporated, like the dregs of a nightmare washed away, and Kylo Ren rubbed a hand across his forehead, slick with sweat.

What was so difficult about the task at hand? He had killed too many people to count. Poe Dameron would just be one more, and it would be pleasurable to watch his traitor friend, FN-2187, writhe with sorrow when Kylo presented him with the pilot's corpse.

 _But Poe helped you. He taught you something. Without Poe, you never would have seen IT again._

 _You'll have Rey,_ the other half of him argued. _It'll be enough. What are you searching for? Your past or your future? Weakness or power?_

Kylo clenched the crossguard at his side and resigned himself. Then he went to his storage chest and opened it, revealing his mask.

The sudden claustrophobia that accompanied looking at the mask was so overwhelming that Kylo swallowed back a combination of terror and bile.

He shut the chest without removing his mask. It's not like his true face was a big surprise to anyone anymore anyway.

Ren stalked the corridors of the Correction Facility as the overhead lights flickered off and on. Energy hummed through his body as he mentally prepared himself for the task at hand.

 _Channel the Dark One. Channel his anger._ Poe Dameron had defied him, had resisted him. Poe Dameron must die.

But, perhaps he would show the Resistance pilot the clearing and the fire before he killed him. Then Kylo could see IT one last time.

The Sith's apprentice was ready for what he would say to the pilot, could feel the heat of his saber searing through the man's flesh, could see the awesome light leave his eyes.

But when he reached the prisoners' cell, Poe Dameron was gone. Just FN-2187 and the droid. No pilot.

Kylo closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind to search the base.

Fragments came to him—

Screams of agony. The flash of white teeth against tan skin. The smell of burning flesh, the sensation of a body resisting the instinct to give in and break down when it was past the threshold for tolerating pain.

And blood. So much blood. It was everywhere and covered every _thing_ , from Dameron's clothing to the metal table he was strapped to. It ran in fine rivulets from his wrists and legs and sides; it dripped onto the floor like fresh paint.

Kylo felt his throat working back disgust as he viewed what was happening. Strange, this physical reaction. He had not spent enough time today in meditation, perhaps? Maybe this pilot had gotten to him more than he had originally thought.

Poe's screams shot back into Kylo's mind with such bruising clarity that he could have sworn he _felt_ Hux's dagger on his skin, painting a pretty picture in sweat and gore.

Hux. _The impudent rat! This prisoner belongs to_ me.

Ren waited with bated breath as he saw the scene through the General's point of view. He saw the fear in Poe Dameron's eyes. Or was it fear? No, it was anger, defiance.

Kylo felt a small glimmer of appreciation for the pilot, which he quickly repressed.

"You destroyed Starkiller," hissed Hux, bringing his crimson-stained dagger dangerously close to Poe's right eye.

Dameron spat blood, his face a mass of swollen purple bruises. "You're welcome."

"You Resistance scum! Don't you know you're about to die?"

Poe's groan turned into a chuckle, of all things. And he strained against his bonds, as if flexing a muscle. His response was a dare. "Then get _on with it_!"

Kylo realized he was frozen in place as Hux brought his knife up to Dameron's chest, above his heart, and made a move as if to stab him… but then stopped.

Poe's eyes were closed, breathing hard, and he opened them in surprise.

Hux looked at the blade with fascination, then his eyes shone, soulless, the guise of one possessed with a burst of inspiration.

"This way is too quick," the General said, leaning in so close that Kylo could feel the moist heat of his breath. "I want you to suffer. Guards!"

The vision tumbled away from Kylo as he regained his senses and began to run through the corridors of the facility.

Hux had his prisoner. The prisoner that Snoke ordered him to kill. Kylo shouldn't interfere, but…

Ren convinced himself as he ran to find Hux that he just wanted to watch. Make sure the meddling General carried it out properly.

It wasn't for any other reason. Not to dip into Poe's mind again. Certainly not that.

* * *

The droid was poised, waiting for the moment Finn attached the gas mask over his face and gave him a thumbs-up.

The ex-stormtrooper knew they had to make a move and make it quickly. Every second was precious when Poe's life hung in the balance. And maybe, just maybe, this harebrained scheme of his would work.

Because what better person to sabotage the First Order than a former FO soldier?

BB-8 beeped and pushed a few buttons, pulled a few wires.

And the lights went out in their cell.

There was a _ca-thunk ca-thunk_ sound and the soft whine of an engine decelerating.

 _We did it,_ Finn thought grimly. _We turned off their power. Now comes the hard part._

Finn had worked through the various scenarios in his head. The first place the stormtroopers would be sent in the event of a power loss would be the prison block to secure their valuable assets. That's where all the guards would flock. So Finn waited. And the waiting was excruciating for him, overly cognizant of his breath in the dead silence.

The only thing Finn could make out in the darkness of his cell were the twinkling white and orange lights from BB-8's shell.

One minute. Two. Three.

Eventually they would get the power back on, but not before the guards initially reached the prison block.

Finn felt sweat bead and trickle down his forehead. Even the droid was getting antsy, and it beeped at him indignantly.

"Not yet!" Finn said. "Steady…steady…"

It wasn't until he heard the clumping sounds of heavy footfalls down the corridor that he cried, "Now, BB-8!"

The droid set the controls and instantly the hiss of poisonous gas from the surface flooded into the cell and up and down the block. Finn disliked its sour smell, but he had no time to dwell on the stench. BB-8 rolled over to him, Finn slid smoothly onto its glove-like body from the chair, and he gripped the wall. They were off.

In less than thirty seconds they were waiting at the cell door. Finn concentrated all of his energy on balancing. _Stay upright and get to Poe. Get to Poe. Get to Poe. Before it's too late._

BB-8 sensed his hesitation before exiting the cell, but then Finn felt the brush of cool leather against his skin, and it gave him the confidence to push on. He rapped BB-8's metal head once, twice, and the unlocked door swished open.

The outside corridor was dark, and all the pair heard was the insistent hissing of gas. Finn had half expected to be ambushed by a dozen stormtroopers the minute they left the cell, but luck was on their side.

 _Lucky jacket,_ Finn thought, partly sarcastic, partly sincere.

Next, BB-8 produced a light that illuminated most of the corridor for being as small as a dining utensil, and it shone on the fallen bodies of a dozen stormtroopers caught unawares when the gas flooded the prison block. One of them moved, groaning, and Finn stiffened, feeling close to helpless without any weapon and without the use of his legs. But the soldier did not stir after that, settling back to the floor.

Through the whoosh of his breath with the mask, in and out, Finn thought he might be sick. In a different dimension, _he_ might have been one of these poor brainwashed troopers, lying poisoned before a Resistance fighter. The part of Finn that felt a tug of empathy when Slip died, the part of him that felt that bloody handprint stain his skin beneath his trooper helmet, did not want to harm these men and women, stolen from birth. That part of him hoped they were not dead yet, and that they would be found and healed after him and BB-8 had hightailed it out of there.

Another part of Finn didn't particularly care what happened to them at that moment. These stormtroopers were part of the system that had immobilized him, had hurt BB-8, and had snatched Poe away. The same Order that wanted to keep Rey for their own sinister desires. Finn had made the decision to turn away from the First Order—these troopers could have done the same.

BB-8 whistled to him, revealing its trusty taser apparatus, and Finn was both amused and impressed at the droid's tenacity. Since when had BB-8 also added "Resistance fighter" to its resume?

"Good thinking," Finn grunted. "If any of 'em movie, shock them first."

Then they started their cautious way down the cellblock corridor. It was tedious work as the duo had to maneuver around every body that littered the hallway and sometimes move one if it was necessary. Since they could not utilize speed, they had to rely on stealth. Finn searched each cell window for signs of other prisoners as they passed by, but the cells were all eerily empty.

A city without any prisoners? Unlikely.

And then Finn wanted to kick himself for not reaching this conclusion sooner—if Subterranean City _had_ any prisoners when the First Order arrived, they were probably either released or now working for the FO. It was standard procedure when the First Order infiltrated a new area. Easy way to pick up new recruits.

But no other prisoners meant no other help. It meant that Finn and BB-8, moving at a (snail's) pace, would have to somehow reach Poe and get him out using…what? BB-8's taser and a few stolen blasters?

Finn was starting to realize that he didn't have much of a plan. They were almost to the end of the block, and then what? _C'mon. Think of something!_

He had just confiscated another blaster from a stormtrooper's lifeless grasp when he heard a scuffling sound and quiet footsteps.

Finn tapped BB-8's head lightly, and the droid paused. It was over. The reinforcements were coming, and the pair would have no choice but to blast their way out, most likely ending in their demise.

Finn's breath hissed in, out, in, out through the mask, and he raised the blaster with abdication.

"Now," he said.

Following BB-8's steady dance, Finn balanced expertly, crouching down on his folded-up knees and propelling both of them forward, using his right hand along the wall. They rounded the corner with ferocity, blaster and taser ready to attack, when they met…

"Rey?"

A nearby control panel crackled, probably related to the power outage, but it also mirrored the stir of electricity in the air.

She lowered her blaster, voice failing to conceal her emotion. "Finn!"

The ex-stormtrooper felt a wave of relief wash over him, so overpowering that he lost his hold on BB-8 and began to slide backwards.

Rey instantly caught him and righted him on the droid, her face obscured by a beige gas mask that puffed in and out with each breath. Finn was reminded of a Worrt from Tatooine, and he found it oddly endearing.

 _Stay focused, Finn._

"Thanks," he muttered, gripping BB-8's head a bit too tightly, making the droid squeal with protest as it spun around to greet Rey.

"Glad to see you too," she whispered to the droid, stooping down to stroke its head.

Finn reached for her hand, and she gripped it tightly. Then they hugged, because it had been too long since they last saw each other, and Finn wished it could have happened sooner.

"I'm sorry," she said in a hushed tone across his neck. "I saw what he did to you… And everything—"

"No," Finn interjected, lost in her embrace. "No need to apologize."

Because there wasn't, really. It was as if all that had passed between them since Starkiller was no more than a brief second, a blink of an eye, and Finn and Rey let go of each other with complete understanding of everything that had passed since that terrible snowy evening.

There was a whine behind Rey, and Chewbacca emerged from the shadows, holding his crossbow. Finn couldn't understand him, but a grin spread across his face regardless.

"Hey, Chewie."

Was it just him, or did Rey's face turn a shade of pink as she stood up. "Wookies don't approve of mushy stuff."

BB-8 burbled with binary laughter, and Finn wished he could wrap this moment up and keep it in his pocket forever, but then Rey's words brought him back to reality.

"We don't have much time. He knows I'm here."

 _Right. Kylo Ren. Kylo Kill-Your-Happiness Ren._

Rey took his hand again. "He hurt you."

Finn suddenly felt a tug of worry, and he squeezed her hand. "Rey—you can't stay here. It's a trap."

"I know," she said, "but I couldn't… I mean, I had to come."

"Understood. Let's get Poe and get the hell out of here!"

BB-8 beeped in agreement.

"Where is he?" Rey asked.

Chewbacca growled in response. It seemed that the Wookie had done some detective work around the base and told Rey where Poe was likely to be found.

"Hux took him," Finn said. "Interrogation room."

Rey froze despite Chewie's overlapping cries, probably wanting them to get moving. And then Finn felt cold all over. Whatever the First Order had planned was still being carried out.

"What's wrong?" Finn pressed her, because Rey's silence was scaring him.

"N-nothing," she said, but the Jedi-in-training was unable to disguise the shake in her voice, and when her fingertips brushed Finn's arm upon releasing his hand, flashes of memory transferred into his mind, like a reflex.

Finn saw the blood. He saw Poe on the table, tied down. He saw the fear in his friend's eyes and Hux lunging with the knife. He saw it plunge into Dameron's side.

The ex-stormtrooper reeled. "You've seen this before?" The corridor spun around him, and he felt BB-8 swiveling left and right to keep him steady. "Why didn't you get to Poe first?" Finn's heart cried out for his friend, but mostly he was confused and tired and his body ached. Why couldn't they just go home now?

"The future is not set in stone," Rey said quietly. Then: "I had to see you. I had to make sure you were all right."

Finn wanted to feel anger towards Rey, but it was impossible. The fear emanating from her face that she was struggling to suppress was too honest. Her eyes were shiny with tears. How could she have known when this would happen?

"Rey, is he… Is he dead?"

She shook her head, and she hesitated before saying, "I don't know."

And then Finn squinted and truly _saw_ Rey in that moment—saw how she had changed. Physically, he saw new muscles underneath her tan sleeves, but there was something else that was different about her too. A kind of peace that had not been there before.

"Let's go," Finn said, swallowing his panic over Poe.

"No," Rey said, and it was not in a tone of voice that accepted debate. "Chewie will take you and BB-8 to safety. I'll go alone."

"You've got an entire army in this city looking for you," Finn argued, his voice rising dangerously above a whisper. "You're falling right into their hands."

Chewbacca looked to Rey expectantly. Finn's head was spinning; he felt so helpless. Now both of his friends' lives would be in jeopardy.

The Jakkunian leveled her eyes, her jaw firmly clenched. "Chewie, you will need to carry Finn. I will get Poe and meet you back at the _Falcon."_

Chewie barked, and Finn felt himself lifted in the air by the Wookie's powerful and fuzzy arms. BB-8 twittered beneath him, concerned.

"Be careful," he said to Rey, and it was more than a request—it was an outright command.

"I'll stick to the shadows," she said, raising her blaster, and a brief smile flashed across her face that not even the mask could obscure.

Then Chewie was carrying him away as BB-8 whirled behind to catch up with them. When Finn looked over his shoulder, his eyes met Rey's one last time, and he heard her voice reverberating in his mind.

 _-I'll bring Poe back. I promise._

TBC

 **A/N:** Surprise! I will be posting at least one more chapter after this one. The angst will continue. I have taken a brief respite from writing this week due to headache recovery, but I'm feeling much better now. Thank you SO MUCH for all the favorites and follows. I have been sending virtual cupcakes to my reviewers, as promised. Also, a huge thank you to the Guests who have left reviews- you all make my day! As always, let me know what you like, what you don't, and anything else! And for those of you who would like to see more Rey character development in this fic, I'm concurrently writing another one (short two-shot) about her friendship with Finn and Poe on D'Qar in an alternate universe to this one. There will be lots of great feels and hurt/comfort in that one too. Yay! Has anyone else seen TFA multiple times in the theater? I'm starting to feel kind of sorry/not sorry for my obsession. And starting to use any excuse imaginable to go see it again. Friend's cousin's boss hasn't seen it yet? Gotta take them. David Lynch's birthday? Celebrate with "Star Wars." Stub your toe? Go see TFA!

~Ista ^_^


	6. Lost Souls and Reverie

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Warning:** Torture, Graphic Violence, Dark Thoughts

 **Chapter 6: Lost Souls and Reverie**

Poe was past the point of wanting to die.

Wanting to die had happened at various points over varying intervals about ten minutes ago. He had wanted to die when Hux had hovered the dagger tip over his eye. He had wanted to die when the General ran the candle flame across his bare chest, lingering to watch the flesh burn. He had wanted to die when he couldn't tell his arms from his legs because there was so much blood, and he had lost the feeling in all of them. He had wanted to die when Hux had lunged with the blade, and Poe had almost felt the impact of it with anticipation.

In that split-second, he missed BB-8's short rhythmic beeps (in imitation of an alarm clock) that made Poe wake up laughing every time.

He missed Finn's smile and his penchant for predicting the worst possible outcome of every situation. _Really called this one,_ Poe had thought fleetingly.

He missed his father's boots and his mother's helmet, picking them up to feel their weight and texture when he was young. He would try the helmet on, cushioned and perfumed with sweat. It would sink to his shoulders.

But then the moment was over, and Poe blinked. He was still alive. Hux was standing over him, knife in hand, just… frozen. And his bottom lip was quivering in a strange and weirdly hilarious way. Dameron laughed quietly at the sight, and each chuckle spread blossoming arcs of agony through his ribs, but he couldn't help it.

The General was saying something. Technically, his mouth moved, but there was no sound. _Huh._ Someone had just turned the volume down on Hux.

And then Poe was watching floor tiles slide underneath him like stars zooming past him in space. In a way, he _was_ flying, and Dameron smiled. Being dragged who-knows-where had never been this much fun, because he was alive and they hadn't captured Rey, and Finn and BB-8 would be all right, and who was winning now?

When he raised his head a few minutes later, which took considerable effort, Poe saw blurry lights, fragmented, with halos around them. Bursts of glimmer broke out against a stark black sky, but they weren't stars. It was the ceiling of the underground city. They were "outside" the Corrections Facility.

Then Poe dropped his head back down where it hung weakly. It had been too much effort to look up, and he began to feel nauseated and dizzy from the continuous dragging. Still, he was more hopeful than before. Because he was still alive, and Finn was alive too. And maybe he could still take BB-8 to a Corellian harp concert. BB-8 really loved that music for some reason. Poe thought it sounded a little like screeching felines, or howling nexus, but he had never been a great judge of music…

Something stung his face, and Poe woke with a start. Had he been asleep? He didn't remember closing his eyes. _Oh, sweet blood loss!_ Dameron noticed that he was tied up again. Typical. Hands behind his back, wrists numb. His left wrist rattled. ( _Is it normal for one's wrist to be percussive?)_ But this time he was being held upright by two FO goons instead of strapped to a table. General Paler-Than-Milk Hux was in front of him and looked like he was about to blow a fuse.

Poe grinned, his teeth stained with blood. This was going to be fun.

"…hear me? I need you to understand what is happening to you before you die."

Oh, this was going to be _so_ much fun.

"Behind you is Lake Furic. It is made of acid."

Dameron considered this. "I think you're bluffing."

Hux slapped him again, snarling. The punch felt like a kiss. A stormtrooper jerked his head around so he could view the chartreuse, boiling, foul-smelling pond behind him that writhed and licked at his heels like some living thing.

"It will be one of the most painful deaths imaginable," the General sneered. "The acid will incapacitate you immediately, but it will take several hours to kill you, slowly."

Poe spat saliva and blood into the lake. It hissed and bubbled in response, like eggs cooked on a hot skillet. The troopers shoved him back around so he faced the General. Hux wore a smug grin, his eyes maniacal and greedy. Dameron felt no fear, no anger, only pity for this poor excuse for a human being.

"What do you have to say?" Hux asked, standing in triumph.

Dameron paused. "I'm confused."

Hux crossed his arms, thin lips turned upside down. "What?"

"You still haven't asked me the whereabouts of the rebel base."

Hux punched him in the mouth, but because of the blood (so slippery!) his fist connected mostly with Poe's throat, leaving him wheezing and doubled over. Darkness tied the corners of his vision into neat disintegrating knots.

"Throw him in the lake!" he heard the General say.

Poe was past the point of wanting to die, so he cried out for Hux to stop, but only a gasping sound came out of his damaged windpipe. There was blood in his mouth, and he tried to swallow it, but something was damaged in his throat and it wouldn't work. He could barely breathe. And then everything happened very quickly. The guards holding him abruptly let go, and he was falling backward, in reality, yet falling forward into a memory of his mother. She beamed at him and reached out her hand as if to say, _It's going to be all right, Poe. Where I am, it doesn't hurt anymore._

Then he stopped. Dameron's eyes were screwed shut, prepared for the burning agony of being engulfed in acid, but there was no burning; there was no drop.

Poe opened his eyes. He was hanging suspended in mid air, no more than a foot above the broiling acid lake. It simmered and hissed where drops of his blood fell into the pond below.

How was this possible?

With a voice came a chill that played a dirge up and down his bruised vertebrae.

"He's mine."

 _No. No. No. No._

The man who had been called Ben Solo stepped out of the shadows of the cave they occupied. Simultaneously, Poe's body was raised into a standing position, although he had no strength to stand on his own. That was Kylo's doing. For a split second, through the pain and horror of Poe's tortured mind, he thought he saw his childhood friend again. Maskless, wearing nothing more than plain black clothes, Kylo wasn't that dissimilar from Ben.

Dameron felt his insides squirm as the astonishing thought rushed upon him: _Kylo Ren—My savior?_

And then Hux kicked him hard in the ribs, and the pilot saw no more.

* * *

Rey followed the echo of screams in her memory.

Poe's pain was like bread crumbs, trickles of fear and anger sparking like flairs from a room down the hall. Her footfalls clicked softly. She hadn't seen any other guards so far. Probably because they were all gathered in a large courtyard outside of the facility. She had run past it with Chewie when they had snuck in through the unwatched and unlocked gate. (Thank the Force that Finn had chosen _that_ particular moment to turn off all the power in the building.) About fifteen stormtroopers had been working on some kind of machine—a chamber of sorts studded with control panels and a circular platform on top. The platform was large enough for one person to stand on, but no one seemed to want that task. Rather, the stormtroopers and techs had worked around the opening delicately, running diagnostics.

Chewbacca had growled softly at her to keep moving.

"What _is_ that thing?" Her eyes had lingered over the enormity of the black and copper mass.

Chewie's responding tone had carried a hint of pain in it. She knew how hard Han's death had been for him, but he rarely showed it. He and General Solo had run into this machine before…

The Wookie had muttered something about a trap and carbonite. Rey had turned away, shuddering. Whatever the horrid contraption was, Chewie had seen it before, and knew of its danger. Still, she couldn't help but feel drawn to it with a macabre fascination. Somehow, it was meant for her.

Rey spread herself against the wall at the sound of movement. A silver service droid crossed the hallway several feet from her and entered the room where Poe's thoughts were emanating from.

 _Curious._

She tiptoed lightly down the dark hallway, using the Force to guide her without illumination. Her breath whooshed rhythmically with the mask obstructing it, but her ears noted silence when she peered through the window of the interrogation room.

The cell was empty, save for the service droid. It shone a penlight from its shell that revealed a metal table and blood—so much blood. It covered the table, coated the floor, and even spread across the walls. Rey's stomach churned. This is where it happened.

 _So much blood but no body…_

Rey suddenly leaned into the wall, a wave of dizziness striking her between the eyes. Was Poe dead after all? Was she too late to save him? It was all her fault. What would she tell Finn? Rey swallowed hard. What would she tell BB-8?

She watched the service droid begin to clean the interrogation room section by section, sanitizing each square inch with a variety of tools and rags. It was sad and lonely to watch it, so Rey turned away.

As she did so, she felt the hair along her forearms stand on end, and her breath caught in her chest. They were coming for her. She had to run. Now. The sound of heavy boots behind her melded with another foreboding of evil, a familiar one. Kylo Ren was not in the facility, but he was nearby.

Rey paused around a corner. The stormtroopers were running now, trying to match her. However, now the sound of their steps was competing with another voice in her mind.

She saw a tableaux of two dark haired boys standing in front of a giant underground lake. In the center of the lake, a tree began to grow, green and beautiful and gigantic.

Rey shook her head, trying to control these mixed memories and dream-thoughts forcing themselves upon her. Another picture drifted into her consciousness—this time of her stepping onto the platform of the chamber of the courtyard. General Hux prodded her forward, sneering at her, and when she took a step, the platform descended, dragging her into a pit of liquid darkness and ice.

Rey sprinted through deserted hallway after hallway and attempted to rid herself of these unceasing images. She had consoled Finn that the future wasn't set in stone, a maxim drilled into her by Master Luke, and one of the rare Jedi sayings she actually agreed with. How else could it have been possible for Poe to escape the interrogation room alive? And the pilot _was_ alive, wasn't he? Rey stopped momentarily and glanced down at her feet. It was too dark to see, so she pulled out her lightsaber and switched it on. It kicked in her hand with its power, throwing green light across the slate floor. And there—almost imperceptible—were small drops of blood. Rey huffed at her own naiveté. The Force had been using her all along without her knowledge. Unbeknownst to her, she had been following Dameron all this time.

 _I'm coming, Poe. Show me the way._

The lightsaber's powerful droning drowned out the faded steps of stormtrooper boots as it guided her down one last corridor and to a windowless door. Something in her mind _snapped_ , and as she opened the door, she saw another person's hand open it instead of her own. It was a man's fist, black-glove slamming into the door simultaneously with her movements.

Ren. He was following the trail of blood too. _He's headed for Poe._

With that realization, Rey ripped the gas mask off her face and ran.

* * *

"He's mine."

Kylo Ren watched Hux thrash into the pilot (how unnecessary) and hold the man's lifeless body up as the guards backed away. The General was understandably angry, but Kylo was amused that he was expressing himself in such a physical way. Ren was a master of the tantrum; perhaps Hux was starting to come around.

But Dameron was unconscious, therefore further injuries to his body were pointless and wasted time. The girl was _here_. Ren felt her presence clearly, as though she was standing beside him. _Rey_ was the focus, not this shell of a pilot. Therefore Kylo used the Force to separate Hux from Poe, grabbing the General with an invisible arm and holding him back.

"Do _not_ interfere, Ren," growled the General, and Kylo was frankly impressed at Hux's precipitous spunk.

 _Temper, temper. I could crush your red hair into your sweet skull. Crush it all into a fine jelly._

Instead, Kylo Ren acted benevolently. "Let me take care of the Resistance pilot. Rey is in Subterranean City."

Hux paused, a serpentine smile twisting his face. "She is? You will deal with her?"

"Yes," replied Kylo calmly. "Return to the Corrections Facility, and prepare for the carbon-freezing. I will bring her back for the process."

Hux averted his eyes, clearing his throat, as if remembering his place, and bowing his head. The General snuck a final glance at the pilot, suspended in the air limply, like an orange and red flag, and then shuffled away. The guards followed him silently.

When they had left the vicinity, Kylo Ren removed his gloves and tossed them to the ground. Then he extended his right hand, reveling in the flow of energy that welled in his abdomen and rippled through his arm towards the man who had once been his childhood friend. This man was quite changed from the image he held of Poe Dameron. A gleeful grin slipped from his face. This man was broken, inside and out.

Kylo stepped closer. Dameron was hanging like a scarecrow. So much blood stained his torn flight suit that it was no wonder it had long stopped running down his arms and legs and chest. His dark hair was matted with blood, his face barely recognizable. Black and blue bruises highlighted his eyes, cuts painting his lips ruby red. Kylo stepped until he was less than a foot from the man and listened to his breathing; he could hear Poe's lungs rattling, and his breath wheezed, like wind whistling through tall grass. Hux had damaged his throat somehow.

But none of that mattered to the dark lord. He had come here for an entirely different purpose than to see to the pilot's wounds. Kylo Ren had never been much interested in the physical, after all; he was much more interested in the mind. Delving into Rey's consciousness had been nowhere near as amusing—but then, he had never been able to delve as deeply into _her_ mind as Poe's.

Thus Kylo Ren took a deep luxurious breath, reached a fingertip to Dameron's temple, and closed his eyes…

He found himself in the clearing of Poe's mind. The cold fire was burning again, and Dameron stood next to it, facing him and staring into it wistfully. There was a bitter resignation on the pilot's face, unmarred by blood or bruises, yet Kylo could feel the fear radiating out of his subconscious, an atmosphere of doubt that drew him closer to the pilot, feeding off his insecurities.

Kylo licked his lips as if he was starving. He took one step forward.

And then IT appeared, facing out, magnificent, full of grandeur. It's branches swayed slightly in the freezing air. A shiver ran through the Sith's apprentice, and his heart hummed, breath catching in his chest. Everything was working according to plan.

Kylo Ren wondered if Poe remembered where he was, or even remembered their meeting here from before. Maybe he only recalled bits and pieces. The fear the pilot exuded told him that he was more aware of what was going on this time than the last.

"Hi, Ben," Poe said in acknowledgement, but there was no humor in his tone, rather tiredness.

Kylo stepped closer to the fire so that it was the only thing dividing them. He watched the flames crackle, smoke sifting into the starless sky above their heads.

"Remember playing together when we were young on Yavin 4?"

Ren was surprised that Poe decided to speak first. Wasn't the man aware what was happening to him? Maybe Dameron knew, but he was giving up. _Interesting._

"Yes, I do."

Poe turned around briefly, his hands in his pockets, gazing upwards. "This tree…" He turned back around and Kylo was confused—the man was smiling. It gave the dark lord pause. He had forgotten the brightness of that smile.

"Remember when we were trying to shoot stonebats off it and your mom came out and almost tore our ears off?"

Kylo remembered very well. "You were a bad influence."

"Yeah. Ironic, huh?" Poe snickered. "And remember when my grandfather sat us down and told us it was a symbol of the Force, and you ran off crying?"

Kylo stiffened. "No, I don't recall that."

Poe stepped around the fire to stand next to him, his hands gesticulating wildly. "You don't? You don't remember breaking off one of the branches and crying about it?"

Ren set his face into a stony scowl. "No. It never happened."

"It did," Poe insisted. He was closer now. "Something about that tree affected you, Ben."

"My name is Kylo Ren," the dark lord said quietly.

Poe chattered on. "I didn't realize at the time what the big deal was until my grandfather mentioned that you were known to be Force-sensitive, and it all clicked into place. Ben, you should have told me what happened."

"My name is Kylo Ren," he repeated, a growl.

Poe's face was inches away. "Your name is Ben Solo!" Like the castigating older brother he never had. It was too much for Ren for take.

Kylo screamed, enraged, and tackled Dameron to the ground, rolling in the dirt, bringing up plumes of dust that fed the cold fire. Poe shoved him, and Kylo pushed back. They continued tumbling on the ground as if they were children again until both lay breathless, side by side.

"Just admit it—it's beautiful," Poe wheezed, nodding to the tree. "It's better out here than where you exist in that suffocating dark cave. You're going to die in there when you could have chosen another path. Ben, you could have chosen _life."_

Kylo's mind clicked. He was giving in, something he should never have gotten close to doing. Where was the mantra? His mouth struggled to find the words, but the words would not come.

"All right," Kylo admitted, a whisper. "It's beautiful."

Poe brushed himself off and spoke again, but there was no smugness in his tone. "You know, I can't look inside your head like you're doing with mine, but somehow it makes more sense to me now. You're trying to get back to that tree, aren't you?"

Nothing made sense. This is not what he wanted to hear from the pilot. Kylo heard a roaring in his ears, and he closed his eyes in a last ditch effort to return to the darkness.

 _The mantra. Where is the mantra? Grandfather, I look to you. Show me the power of the Dark Side. Grandfather, I look to you…_

Ren opened his eyes and smiled.

"Yes, I just wanted to see it one last time. Before I burned it down."

With that, Kylo picked up the broken branch that he had snapped years ago when he was five years old, the branch that still existed in the recesses of Poe's distressed consciousness, and dipped it into the impossible fire. It glowed in the darkness, flames like flowers entwining around it. Kylo made a move towards the base of the tree to set it alight, but then…he…couldn't…move.

His eyes shot to Poe, who was standing with one hand extended towards him, something close to wonder on his face.

Kylo attempted to wriggle free, but his feet were glued to the ground, his hand frozen and unable to clench or free the fiery branch.

 _Impossible…_

"You have no power here anymore," said Poe quietly. "Leave."

Kylo Ren had abandoned the mantra because the boundaries of his imagination had been permanently broken with this new twist. How could Poe be controlling him as if he had the power of the Force? He was too deeply embedded in Dameron's mind. He had pulverized the man's defenses—how could the pilot have any control now?

The dark lord felt his heart hammering in his chest. He was so close. So close to breaking this man's mind completely and destroying all that made him _good._ Kylo wasn't going to give up this easily.

"Do you want me to leave the way you abandoned those villagers on Jakku?"

His words made Dameron waver. "What do you mean?"

Kylo felt a cruel grin flicker over his face. "Listen."

The sound of voices began to echo around the clearing. They started just as whispers at first and then built into a cacophony of crying, shrieks. Some were begging for mercy; others were calling to loved ones.

Poe put hands over his ears as the piercing cries continued. If he called out to Kylo Ren, the dark lord couldn't hear him over the whirling noise that caused the trees in the forest around them to bend and break, crashing down. Everything was falling apart, but the cave, the fire, and the tree remained, as altruistic as ever.

Dameron was on his knees now, but Kylo Ren still couldn't move, and he began to lose patience. Then, all at once, the hurricane of sound ceased. Poe was able to get to his feet, but he shook visibly.

"Are you finished, Ben? You can't take my mind. I… I won't let you."

Kylo was fuming, but he sensed that his time was up. Another presence was on the outskirts of the clearing, another soul in the real world he would need to devote his full attention to soon.

"Very well," he said to the stubborn pilot. "If I can't take your mind, I will just destroy your body."

Faster than a light flashing on, Kylo felt himself pulled backwards and he rolled onto on his heels, back in his physical form. He was still standing in front of Lake Furic, and his hands were around Poe Dameron's bloody and bruised neck. But this time, the pilot's eyes were _open._

A part of Kylo thought, fleetingly: _How can he still be alive? It doesn't seem right._

Yes, the decent thing to do would be to put the man out of his misery. Even the Dark Side could show decorum.

Anyway, Dameron's eyes were going to change his mind if he didn't take action immediately. They were piercing and clear, pleading and somehow accusatory all at once. They seemed to tell him: _Oh, c'mon. We had a few good times, didn't we? Still, I suppose if a man can kill his own father, he can kill an old friend too._

So Kylo Ren gripped Poe Dameron tightly and prepared to throw him into the pit of acid when unseen hands knocked the breath out of him and sent him flying.

Kylo heard the hum of Skywalker's lightsaber before he saw its glow, and then _she_ was towering over him, her lips set in a thin line. One of her arms cradled the limp pilot and the other clutched his birthright.

He smirked after regaining the ability to breathe properly. "Nice to see you again, Rey."

TBC

 **A/N:** Ah, it continues. You've probably guessed that it's winding down, but we have at least one more short chapter left before I take a little break from this story. I've got an outline for a sequel, but I'd like to have the majority of that written before posting… I've also got a little Rey/Finn/Poe fic in the works that is currently scoring highly on my feels-o-meter. Stay tuned! Your reviews continue to make me spout nonsense syllables of joy. Thank you so much for all the favorites and follows! Please continue telling me what you like, what you don't, what you think Poe's favorite food is, etc.

~Ista ^_^


	7. On the Outskirts of Hope

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Warning:** Violence

 **Chapter 7: On the Outskirts of Hope**

Rey was aware of several things, and the beating of her heart was a pulsating drum, challenging every move she made to quicken in a rhythmic pace. Her senses heightened—her inner being extended. The Force flowed through her.

And it felt _good._

She ignored Kylo Ren's greeting. His smile was like a virus, venom dripping from over-eager fangs. Her mission had never been so painfully clear as the pilot faded in her grasp, his husk of a body growing lighter with each grating breath. Poe was covered in blood, and the sight of his stained flight suit reminded Rey of the service droid cleaning the interrogation room, erasing all traces of gore and violence.

Rey winced at the sight of Dameron's face—too-pale skin underneath a sheet of crimson, his eyes closed. She heard his heart, tuning into it, weakly beating. His fire was dying out.

Her nemesis was winded, but he would be coming for her soon, to defeat her or drive her back to Hux and that chamber. Rey had had enough sense to avoid the loathsome General and his guards, and she had hid, pressed into the rocky shadows as they had passed her in the cave.

Now her options were limited. She could not carry Dameron, ward off Ren, and flee at the same time. So Rey made her choice—she would fight the dark lord, incapacitate him if possible, and get Poe to safety.

Rey gently placed the pilot on the ground, and he wheezed softly, stirring, eyes fluttering open. She made sure he was well out of reach of the lake's lapping acid waves and cupped the side of his head with one palm. Despite Rey's soft ministrations, Dameron tried to squirm away from her grasp. He was probably delirious and didn't recognize her, so the Jedi in training projected calming thoughts into his mind.

 _-My name is Rey, and I'm Finn's friend, which means I am your friend too._

Dameron suddenly stopped, his eyes wide; whether they opened in fear or wonder, she wasn't sure. However, the immediate sensation she received from the pilot upon touching him was mostly confusion. Confusion and blind terror.

 _What did Kylo do to him?_

But there was no time to ponder. Rey stroked the side of Poe's bloody head and smiled at the injured man.

"Just sleep now," she whispered, her voice hypnotic. "Just go to sleep."

Instantly, Poe's eyes slid closed, and his body went lax in her embrace.

Rey took a deep breath, aware of everything in the vicinity, from Poe's erratic heart beat to the temperature of the lake, and the penetrating thoughts of the monster who stood directly behind her.

Rey arched her back, hand on her lightsaber, the weapon that had chosen her.

 _Like BB-8 chose Poe,_ she thought. _Like it later chose me._

 _-Jedi mind tricks?_

Kylo's thoughts were wraiths in her head.

- _Isn't that a bit cliché?_

She shrugged the thought off and stood up, pivoting around to face him. Rey was shocked to examine Ren more closely and find that he had shed his usual accoutrements for plainer fair. No mask, gloves, or cloak. And somehow that made the man who used to be called Ben Solo even more intimidating.

 _-Try me._

Rey rolled her eyes. "You will get a sudden urge to go swimming."

 _-Not working._

She flexed an arm, growing impatient. "You will disappear."

Kylo sighed heavily. "You're not even _trying_!"

Rey licked her lips and stepped closer to the tall figure. Her voice was barely above a murmur this time. "You will fight me, and you will _lose._ "

Kylo Ren's crossguard stretched out, glowing, flame-like. When he held it down, poised to strike, the perpendicular sabers reflected beams in his eyes. There was a righteous fury within them Rey had seen before, and it unsettled her.

"That's better," he growled, and then he struck.

Their sabers clashed, ringing with energy through the cavern, and Rey felt all of her lessons with Skywalker rush back to her as she applied her knowledge to thrust forward, dodging Ren's offensive attack. Then she spiraled around, clipping her saber close to her enemy's face before backing away.

"No scar?" Rey panted.

Kylo ran a hand down his right cheek, pausing. "Bacta scrub. Good for the complexion. Disappointed?"

Rey nodded, tossing her saber from one hand to the other before crashing into the dark lord again and whisking away before he had a chance to retaliate. She landed, lightly on her feet. "I was hoping you'd still have it. It makes villains more evil, don't you think? When they have a scar."

"Why is that?" Kylo was circling her now, and she could feel the energy of the Dark Side building within him, like a charging battery.

"It reflects their inner marks and turmoil," Rey explained. She squatted down, calculating his next move before he even began and thus ducking as his crossguard pierced the space where her head had existed moments ago. "Your scar would have warned people just how twisted you are on the inside."

Kylo stood in front of her now, leering, jabbing his saber in and out, as if testing the waters. "You mean conflicted? But we have that in common, you and I."

They shuffled backwards and forwards, but the moves were too easy and played-out, as if they were just going through the motions.

"You didn't know your parents; I didn't know mine. You wonder if they ever loved you, and if you're justified to love them…"

"Quiet!" Rey yelled, glancing over her shoulder at Poe's motionless body, and she sensed his life force dimming.

Kylo's cackling laughter brought her back to the present with ringing clarity as his saber struck by her ears.

"Don't tell me you're attached to that… _thing_?"

"He's…" Rey puffed, dodging blows. "…my friend."

Ren pressed into her, his breath spreading, warm, across her face. "I broke him."

Rey grunted as Kylo passed her and tried to strike her side, but she balanced on one leg and scurried away, coming right back to meet his thrust. Her thoughts flashed back to Poe's interrogation—when the Force had shown her inside his mind… The clearing, and the memories in the fire… She forced her teeth to not chatter, the memory sickening her.

"I'd be surprised if he ever flew again," Kylo hissed.

Rey crashed into the dark lord, to silence him as well as satiate the frustration that was building in her. Their weapons sparked and danced together, beams of heat and points of light that reflected in their eyes.

"What you did to him can be repaired," Rey sputtered, trying to stay calm. What did Master Luke always tell her about negative emotions leading to the Dark Side?

But Kylo wasn't finished. "What I did to him was offer him power, a way to escape his guilt and weakness. Just like I will do to you. And you _will_ turn eventually. I can already feel your anger."

Rey breathed deeply, but her muscles sang, her body freed from meditation or deliberation. She was being used by the Force to _live_ in the moment, to _think_ in the moment, and at the moment, her feelings reigned.

Kylo sparred with her, quick bursts of energy that knocked her down, but Rey sprang back up.

"Your traitor friend," Ren continued. "You must be upset about what I did to FN-2187."

"His name is Finn!" Rey seethed, smashing down with her saber and catching Kylo on the shoulder.

The dark lord grimaced, staggered, then straightened. "Your anger towards me is understandable when I think about what I did to him—how I made him cry after I ripped the metal plate from his back."

Rey howled like some wild animal and tore into Kylo. Using her feet, she caught him off guard by kicking at his knees. When her saber circled back, she lashed out with her left fist, grazing his abdomen. She kept hearing the voice of her mentor in her mind, as if he was standing beside her: _Do not let your anger take control. You are falling into his hands._

But Rey saw red, and she fought like one possessed, feeling the Force flow through her, manipulating her, and it was satisfying. It would have been even more intoxicating if not for the silent scream in the back of her mind, telling her that she was losing a grip on reality, going too far, as if she was piloting the _Falcon_ but suddenly took her hands off the controls…

Kylo Ren must have been waiting for this moment. Of course, he had been waiting. He had been playing her like a finely tuned instrument, and he bided his time, dodging blows, to find a weakness before he pounced. When Kylo caught her in the left side with his crossguard, Rey shrieked, stumbling backwards into dirt, black sand coating her sweaty skin. She scrambled to her knees, securing her grip on the saber and placing a tender hand to her abdomen where blood began to drench through her cream-colored shirt.

Then her nemesis stood silently, his face expressionless. It annoyed Rey to no end that Kylo was dragging this confrontation out when every second was precious to Poe.

Rey dragged herself to her feet, doubled over from the pain in her side, but Kylo remained where he was, pensive.

"You will join me, yes?" His voice was quiet, barely audible over the hum of his lightsaber.

Rey almost laughed aloud. "What brings you to this conclusion?"

But something in his eyes, in his face, sobered her. They were devoid of cunning, mischief, and deceit.

"Our destinies have been entwined ever since we were born."

"What do you mean?" Rey stepped closer, terrified of what he was saying, but unwilling to doubt him. What good were lies now?

Kylo avoided her gaze, uncharacteristically reserved and…nervous?

 _Since when has this monster been shy?_

Then Ren looked up at her, his eyes piercing.

"We were intended for each other. You see, our families were connected."

Rey waved her lightsaber back and forth as if to disregard his words. "What are you talking about?"

Kylo said, "I know who you are."

"Silence!" Rey said immediately, striking at the dark lord to stop his words as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks and cloud her vision. It wasn't just the pain she felt—it was the idea that after years of searching for her identity, it was finally going to be revealed by evil personified—the truth let out at last, but from the last person she would have expected.

Kylo easily matched every move Rey made, his eyes unblinking, fixed on her.

"Your grandfather was my namesake."

"SILENCE!" she screamed, again the roar in her head growing fierce, a terrible beast.

But the man persisted. "Your grandfather trained mine until Darth Vader killed him."

"No—" Rey began, but the word stuck in her throat, and she stiffened.

Kylo lowered his crossguard.

"Your last name is Kenobi."

Rey's lightsaber clattered to the ground, rolling away from her as her lungs seized up. _No. It can't be. I don't believe it. I_ won't _believe it._

The Jedi-in-training wanted to flee, to run and hide from this shocking revelation, but her legs would not work properly, and her knees buckled. Kylo Ren's invisible arms once again molded her body into a penitent position, arms at her sides, body shaking. Her mind was adrift in the overwhelming possibilities.

"I…" Rey struggled to find words, unable to move her head. "I don't believe you." Her voice sounded hollow and small to her own ears.

"Search your feelings," said Kylo quietly. He stood in front of her, bending over, his lightsaber vibrating close to her neck. "We were meant for each other in another world, matched from birth without our consent, and now we can make them pay—the Resistance, the Republic, our parents—for abandoning us. We are strong with the Force and will be even stronger with the Dark Side. Together." His voice rose to a pitched fervor, eyes blazing.

"No," Rey managed to croak out. "No."

Everything was happening too fast. The ordeal had been too much—she had given in. Her life was over, and she would be taken prisoner. What about Poe? Poe would die. And Finn? She would never see him again.

"What did you say?" Kylo asked, raising the tip of his crossguard to her chin.

"I believe her answer was 'no,' Ben."

The spell over Rey broke abruptly, and her head snapped up at the figure appearing beside them. He wore a brown cloak and wielded the lightsaber that had rolled away from her, the lightsaber that had been his father's, and his father's before him.

Luke Skywalker said, "Twice."

Rey had never seen Kylo Ren truly afraid. Yes, she had seen fear flitter across his face before she defeated him on Starkiller, but this was an entirely new look for Snoke's apprentice. All color faded from his face, his lips trembling.

The last Jedi removed his hood, revealing a silver beard, the light from his green saber carving shadows into his face. Despite the darkness of the cavern, Luke's eyes glowed, two tiny stars that exuded pure wisdom and energy.

"Ben, it's time to come home."

Kylo's face contorted, a mixture of defiance, fear, and repulsion. Rey was expecting the younger man to balk at Skywalker's words, but his response was even more surprising than anything else that had been revealed to her that evening.

"It's too late for me."

Luke smiled grimly. "Your grandfather told me the same thing before he died… but it _wasn't_ too late. He saved me, and he saved himself." Luke swallowed back the emotion seeping through his words. "And I took him home."

Rey shivered, clutching her side and placing her hand over the wound to stop the bleeding. She wasn't surprised that all of her hair was standing on end—the energy from the Force hung like a thick electrified curtain and permeated the air; the tension was palpable. To see her own mentor standing beside her, holding his old weapon—the weapon he had made famous after his infamous father chose a different path, the weapon he swore he would never wield again—was astounding.

Rey wouldn't miss this for the world.

Kylo choked. "I can't go home."

Rey remembered the death of Han Solo, the man who had helped her and Finn to escape, to join the Resistance and get BB-8 back to Poe. She remembered how she felt when she realized his own son had killed him. Putting herself in Kylo's shoes, Rey didn't blame him for not wanting to return to those he betrayed.

Luke held his ground. "I will take you back to your mother. She loves you."

"I can't go home," Kylo repeated, tears visibly running down his cheeks now. "Can't you see? Don't you understand?!"

Then Kylo Ren attacked Luke Skywalker, leaping into the air and crashing down with all the vigor he could muster. Red and green sabers collided in a dissonant blast, leaving Rey breathless. But then Kylo flew backwards, and Skywalker remained in the same defensive position, as if he hadn't moved at all, the same serene countenance on his face.

Meanwhile, Kylo was attempting to pick himself up awkwardly, his saber flickering.

"We are leaving, Ben," Luke said softly. "You can still change your mind."

Ren screamed, a harrowing awful wail that made Rey clap hands over her ears to cut out its anguish. "Fight me! You will fight me!"

Luke stared at him for a while and then shook his head. The Jedi walked over to Rey and pressed a switch on his saber, flicking it off, and placing it in her hand. She exchanged a brief gaze of understanding with her mentor and then got to her feet, swaying a bit, and kneeling beside Poe. He was still breathing—barely. She felt for Poe's hair, crusted with dried blood, and smoothed it back, as if it would make a difference in his appearance, as if it would make him well again. Rey fingered the hurt in her side, keeping the lightsaber handy because she wasn't sure exactly what was going to happen. One thing was certain: Kylo Ren was not going to let them walk away this time.

Snoke's apprentice barreled toward Skywalker, limping, his saber slicing the air, but Luke raised his hand methodically, and a plume of dark sand swept into Kylo's face. Ren cried out, grit covering his body, rubbing his eyes frantically. Rey could only watch, speechless. Even though Master Luke had demonstrated his abilities to her before, she had a feeling she was about to see far more tonight.

Once Kylo had recovered from the sand, he plunged forward again, his eyes red and puffy. This time, Luke extended both his flesh and mechanical hand to the lake, where he raised a shower of acid in a thin sheet, suspended above Ren's head. Kylo was quick to counter, stretching his hand out to stop the deadly liquid, but his efforts only slowed it down. Without breaking a sweat, Luke sent stinging droplets of rain pelting onto the man in black, forcing him to flee towards the back of the cavern. Where the drops fell, Rey viewed Ren's clothes smoking, the fabric eaten away.

The one who used to be Ben Solo raced forward a third time, throwing his crossguard like a knife. Skywalker stopped it effortlessly in midair, casting it aside. Kylo did not try to retrieve the weapon but kept charging, a cry on his lips, and an expression of desperation on his face.

Skywalker's most magnificent feat was when the walls around them began to shake, rocks crumbling down as a series of stalactites and stalagmites in the vast cavern broke off from their sturdy bases and hurled themselves at the dark lord. Ren tried to counter with the Force, but there were too many, and they were too heavy to stop. One by one, the sharp and bulky rocks careened into him until he was lying on his back, breathing heavily.

The remaining airborne boulders fell to the ground, lifeless, and Skywalker dropped his hand, eyes darting between Rey and Kylo. He gestured to her, and Rey stood, stepping carefully over the crumbling rocks to Kylo's still form. Her right hand hovered over the saber (just in case), but she lost all trepidation when she viewed Ren close up. Although his eyes were open, they were unfocused. He was breathing hard, and blood ran from his temple.

Without a word, Rey knew what she had to do and raised a palm, holding it above Kylo's forehead. His eyes followed her without discerning what was happening, and then Rey released the command in her mind—SLEEP. Kylo's eyes instantly closed, and his head rolled back.

Afterwards, Rey looked to Skywalker for guidance, and he indicated the pilot. She ran to Dameron, picking him up in her arms and using the Force to assist where her physical strength was failing. The wound in her side throbbed; Rey just hoped she had enough energy left to carry Finn's friend.

A few feet away, Luke curled his left hand into a fist, and Kylo's limp body lifted in the air, floating eerily a few feet above the ground.

"I know another tunnel that will take us to the _Falcon_ ," Skywalker said. "We must go now."

Quickly, they took off at a light jog. Rey pressed Poe close to her body, trying to be as gentle to his battered frame as possible. She was worried that he was so still; even with all the jostling, he never made a sound. She followed Master Luke through a dark and winding tunnel that smelled of sulfur. While they traveled, Skywalker kept muttering about the smugglers he paid off for safe passage to Vera 5. Apparently, R2 had had a _very_ difficult time with on of the other droids on board, and Skywalker complained of the ship's crew.

"I'm not sure why I was expecting anything different," he muttered. "They were scoundrels, after all. I suppose it was just strange to have a conversation with someone besides you and Chewie and R2."

Rey listened to him mumble on and had to stop herself from chuckling at the absurdity of their current situation. The body of Kylo Ren floated ahead of them like a dreadful ghost, followed by the most powerful Jedi of his generation. And she had Poe. And Poe was still alive. And they were going to join Chewbacca and Finn and the droids back on the _Falcon_.

Even though it seemed like she was living in a nightmare-turned-fantasy, there was still a part of her mind that wanted to unlock the alternate chain of events that could have transpired over the course of this day, if only to dismiss them forever. Rey longed to see how the day _could_ have ended, if it would have been any more unbelievable than this new version, the one she was living.

But there was literally light at the end of the tunnel. Rey could see it. And she tasted the fresher recycled air of an indoor hangar where the _Falcon_ had been tucked away. That's where they were heading.

Rey bit her lip. Even if they all made it back in one lovely happy mess, it didn't change the fact that everything _had_ changed. She knew who she was now, and that couldn't be taken back or erased.

She shuffled closer to Master Luke, afraid to speak, but needing to know.

"My grandfather was Ben Kenobi."

It wasn't a question. Skywalker kept moving, but his eyes turned downcast. It was admission enough of the truth.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rey whispered.

Luke paused. Artificial light from the hangar filtered over his face, revealing its pallid hue. Skywalker had not been afraid when he fought one of the most feared men in the galaxy, but he was afraid now.

"You hadn't completed your training," he simply said and continued on.

Rey followed. The hangar was gratefully deserted, so no one took in the unusual sight of Kylo Maniac Ren floating ominously across the bay and through the open doors of his father's old ship. Luke froze before walking up the gangplank of the vessel, as if he had struck an invisible barrier, and then they heard R2-D2's familiar whistles, and he hurried inside.

Rey followed suit, and suddenly everything was a state of chaos, familiar faces assaulting her as she walked the familiar halls of her ship.

BB-8 was instantly at her heels, whirring, beeping frantically, asking about Poe. Was he all right? What happened?

There was a soft moan, and giant fuzzy arms removed her burden. Chewbacca regarded her and nodded before turning away, as good an acknowledgement as she had ever received from the Wookie. Then Rey was following her enormously tall co-pilot through the ship, BB-8 clicking behind her. R2-D2 shambled alongside and joined into the smaller droid's frantic questions.

"He'll be all right," Rey said tiredly, even though she had no idea, and it was just a guess.

They followed Chewie to the ship's makeshift quarters where the Wookie set Poe gently down on a bunk. And there was Finn, zooming fast to meet them; he sat in a chair on wheels, pushing off the walls with his hands to propel himself forward.

"Rey! You did it! You're alive and…and Poe…?"

She couldn't speak; her vision began to swim in and out erratically, but Rey pointed to the cot where Poe rested. Finn was about to rush to his friend but then stopped moving. Beside the cot opposite Dameron's, Luke Skywalker leaned over Kylo Ren's sleeping form. The Jedi's human hand covered the young man's forehead, his eyes closed.

Rey read Finn's emotions as plainly as a warning sign. In a matter of seconds, the ex-stormtrooper's thoughts jumped from confusion to betrayal to anger.

"Why is _he_ -?"

But Rey put a hand on Finn's arm, stopping him from moving forward. Soon after, Skywalker stepped away from Kylo's body and faced them, hands clasped together. He appeared every inch a legend in that moment, brown cloak swirling, like a wise wizard.

"He will sleep for several hours," Luke said, then a smile broke across his face. "You must be Finn." Rey suddenly felt dizzy, dazzled by the oddity of this moment: Her mentor meeting her best friend. The walls of the _Millennium Falcon_ began to morph and bend.

"Y-yes," she heard Finn stammer, probably blushing. "Yes, sir."

"Would you do me a favor and hold onto Rey?"

Rey looked at Finn, but it was like looking at someone through a waterfall. An unnatural warmth washed over her, and the heat brought a numbing sensation that spread through her limbs.

"Why, sir?"

"Because she's about to fall."

Finn's hands shot out just as her head dipped, and she bumped into them before being swept into the sturdy arms of her Luke Skywalker. While succumbing to unconsciousness, Rey cursed her own frailty.

Being held was not something she was overly fond of.

TBC

 **A/N:** Surprise—a new chapter! Okay, so I thought I might take a break from this fic, but I honestly don't see ending this one anytime soon, so I'm just going to keep going and see what happens. I've never written/approached a story like this before (all spontaneously and such) so forgive me!

To answer some questions I've received about Finn and Poe's relationship in my story, I see it mostly as brotherly friendship. This isn't to say I'm not going to include _any_ relationships-I'm just letting the plot develop organically and seeing where the characters want to go… So… Who knows? I don't see this as a slash fic (or really a romantic relationship story in general) but more of a whump, angst, comfort, friendship tale. That said, some of you might read it as romance, and I think that's cool. Hope that doesn't frustrate anyone out there! Apologies if it does. I'm just having way too much fun writing this to pin myself down yet—hope you're all having as much fun reading it as well!

 **Neon Wish Likes Pine Trees –** dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets fit perfectly! I can totally see Poe enjoying kid's food. Haha

Thank you for all the wonderful reviews and follows and favorites!

~Ista


	8. On the Edge of the Night

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 8: On the Edge of the Night**

Finn was overwhelmed.

And tired. And hungry. And, although ecstatic that he now possessed a chair with wheels, still frustrated at his limited mobility.

He wanted nothing more than to catch Rey when her eyes drooped, and carry her on his own two feet. Instead, Luke Skywalker had stepped in.

Finn decided to let him go ahead. He was a Jedi, after all, and a legend, and the mention of his name usually sent tendrils of fear curling around the average stormtrooper's spine. Even fearless Phasma was afraid of him.

Maybe that's why Finn could only stare, dumbstruck, as Skywalker (Defeater of the Empire) carried Rey to another bunk behind the one where Kylo Ren lay, still as death.

Finn was definitely sure he had missed some things since Chewie stole him and BB-8 out of the Corrections Facility and to the _Falcon._

Then Luke turned around, his brown cloak swirling, and he grinned again, causing Finn to look away.

 _Don't be weirded out that Skywalker is smiling. Smiling is a normal thing that normal people do._

If the Jedi noticed Finn's awkwardness, he didn't show it. Instead, Skywalker clapped his hands together, and his eyes darted around the ship.

"I haven't been on this rust bucket in years. Still needs a paint job. Han would never listen…" He trailed off, and the smile vanished from his face. At the same time, Finn pretended that there was something immensely fascinating on the floor.

 _Just don't over think the fact that Luke Skywalker is talking to you, even if he's actually talking to himself._

The Jedi cleared his throat. "Anyway, I suppose this is all very serious business. What with everyone nearly dying…"

Finn couldn't ignore the strangeness of the Jedi's comments any longer and looked pointedly up at him, head cocked.

Luke sighed. "I'm sorry, Finn. The truth is, I haven't spoken with anyone besides Rey, Chewie, R2, and some shady vagabonds for close to five years, and my conversation skills are a bit lacking."

Finn nodded. "I understand, sir."

It was Luke's turn to examine _him_ more closely, and Finn could feel the Jedi's mind reaching out to his, though not in an invasive way. More like a mental handshake.

Skywalker blinked. "Yes, I suppose you do."

The Jedi glanced at each of the occupied bunks in turn. "Take care of them, Finn."

The ex-stormtrooper nodded, not sure how he was supposed to "take care" of anyone without proper medical training and supplies, but he understood what Luke meant, and he wasn't going to disobey a Skywalker. That was something he could never do.

R2-D2 beeped hurriedly, and Finn's nervous spell around the Legend broke.

"We're going," Skywalker replied evenly, and to punctuate his statement, Finn heard Chewie's familiar wail from the helm.

"All right, all right!" hollered Luke, and he patted Finn on the back as he walked past him. "I haven't flown this thing in years."

His voice contained so much excitement, and the old man's eyes crinkled. In that moment, Finn saw what Skywalker had looked like as a young man, and he saw someone else too: Poe.

 _No wonder,_ he thought. _They both love to fly._

Then the Jedi walked away, R2 following behind him, and Finn felt the ship moving a few seconds later.

The ex-stormtrooper turned to the three, unconscious in their bunks, and his heart felt torn in two. Representing his inner struggle, BB-8 (who had maintained a solemn silence while Skywalker was in its presence) now let loose an emotional tirade, wobbling towards Poe with a string of panicked trills, and then rolling over to Rey, back and forth, back and forth.

"BB-8!" Finn called, and the droid stopped. "Calm down. They're going to be all right."

At least, Rey was. He wasn't so sure about Dameron.

But Finn had to be strong for the droid, and _pretending_ to be something usually was enough to convince his brain that it was true after all. Like when Finn had picked up Skywalker's lightsaber to defend Rey and defeat Kylo Ren on Starkiller. Finn had done it for Rey, without knowing anything of the Force. He had fought one of the most feared men in the galaxy and had convinced himself in that moment it was the only thing to do. So he did it.

Finn gave clear instructions to the droid to assist him while he pulled himself alongside the bunks. The ship jostled restlessly. _Must be departing the hangar and riding to the surface._ But Finn stayed focused. He slid beside Kylo Ren's motionless body and forgot to breathe. Icy chills frosted over his nerves. It was _wrong_ to have this man on board, aside from the fact that he was lying beside his two best friends. No, Ren belonged in a prison, somewhere far away.

While BB-8 fretted over the Jakkunian, Finn leaned over and grabbed the lightsaber from her belt, stowing it in his. Just in case Kylo Dozy Ren decided to wake up unexpectedly and cause a ruckus.

Finn was about to inspect Rey's wound more closely when his back spasmed, and he slouched over in his seat, hands gripping the metal posts of Rey's bunk.

BB-8 twittered.

"'M okay," Finn said hastily and rummaged through the medkit Chewie had thrust into his hands when Luke showed up. The _Falcon_ rocked to and fro, and Finn stabilized himself in the chair. Had he heard the blasts of enemy fire? It must have meant that they had left the surface of Vera 5, and the First Order was after them.

Finn checked on Kylo Ren once more. He wondered: Did the First Order realize one of their top leaders had been snatched from them? A blow that skimmed the ship jarred him again, causing BB-8 to reach out loops of cable to balance itself. Was Chewbacca manning the gunner? How Finn wished he could be of some use!

 _You_ are _being useful. Concentrate. Besides, Luke Skywalker is piloting this ship. You're gonna be just fine._

In spite of the ache in his back, Finn persevered, gathering bandages and disinfecting Rey's wound, wrapping her injured side. BB-8 offered advice and encouragement, then Finn turned to Poe.

It was the first good look he had gotten at the pilot since the Wookie had carried him into the makeshift quarters, but the sight of his friend was enough to make Finn's spirit sink.

Where to begin? Dameron was nearly unrecognizable; his face had been brutalized along with the rest of his body. His flight suit was in shreds and covered with blood to the point that it was more the color of mottled red and brown than orange. And while Poe's appearance was horrifying, the _sound_ he made was even worse.

Finn heard Poe's breath above the noise of the space battle outside, the _Falcon's_ engines, and even the hiss of recycled air pumping through the ship. It was a wheezing, scraping, gasping rattle that made Dameron's body shudder with each fighting inhale.

And it was making Finn go crazy.

"Is it his lungs?" The ex-stormtrooper was completely at a loss for what to do to help his friend. And if it _was_ Poe's lungs that were damaged, he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do for the man.

BB-8 sidled up to him, flicking out its scanner and making a quick physical analysis of its X-Wing partner. It buzzed, worried with its findings.

"Trauma to the throat?" Finn asked, biting his lip. "What do we do?"

The droid's answer was couched in uncertainty. Mostly, nothing. But they would be arriving on D'Qar in less than an hour, right? Poe would be able to hold out that long, right?

Finn pressed the back of his hand to the side of Dameron's face then held it above the man's forehead. Finn withdrew his hand, keeping his dread hidden for the droid's sake. Poe was cold to the touch.

Ardently, chiding himself that he hadn't done this already, Finn removed his cinnamon-colored jacket and draped it over Poe's frame, careful to lay it below the pilot's neck to avoid further injury. Finn knew his gesture couldn't possibly help, but maybe… It _had_ to work.

 _Lucky jacket_ , he thought fleetingly.

And so the droid and the ex-stormtrooper waited. Muted sounds of laser cannons eventually ceased, and Finn was pulled back in his seat, the leap to hyperspace somehow more abrupt when not viewing the jump through a screen. Finn wanted to shout out loud that _they made it_ and would be at the Resistance base soon, but he couldn't. Not in this grim space. Not with Rey and Poe unconscious and Darth Vader's progeny beside them.

So Finn waited, BB-8 at his feet like a patient pet. And Finn drifted, forgetting how exhausted he was until he sat still for two seconds, and his eyelids began to droop. Then came an alarming chatter beside him, a binary warble that seemed to say: _Don't leave me too. You're the only one still awake._

Finn wanted to tell the droid not to worry, that he was strong, stronger than even his friends might think he was, but the crushing ache in his back was too persistent, and the ex-stormtrooper was too tired to endure it any longer.

The Resistance medical personnel did not wake him; neither did BB-8's ecstatic chirps, or when he was lifted onto a soft stretcher, his legs crossed and stiff. Finn woke when he heard Poe stop breathing.

The ragged wheezes that had lulled him to sleep ceased, and Finn's eyes snapped open.

"Poe!" Finn struggled against a sea of kind faces and firm hands that told him to stay still, lie down, you'll hurt yourself. He didn't care—his body went cold all over. "Is Poe all right?"

Finn strained his neck to look over his left shoulder and saw Dameron being lifted onto a stretcher like the one he lay on. The remaining patches of the pilot's skin that were _not_ covered in blood were ashy-white, almost grey.

And he wasn't breathing.

"Is he…?" Finn tried to squirm out of his caretakers' grasps, but there were too many of them, all pleasant and soothing. "Oh… Please… No… He can't be…"

BB-8 whirled between the legs of the doctors and nurses, bumping into their knees as if determined to be kept in the loop.

"We gave him some medicine to help his throat, to help him breathe easier."

"And we're giving him oxygen."

"Don't worry."

Finn saw the mask covering Dameron's mouth and nose and realized that in the few seconds he had remained quiet, the doctors had managed to place a mask over _his_ face too. But something was different about the air he breathed in from it; it smelled funny, almost like the toxic atmosphere of Vera 5.

"Rest now," one woman said to him warmly, and Finn sank back onto the stretcher, allowing himself to be carried out of the _Falcon._ His head began to feel foggy, and his vision brightened and blurred simultaneously. Despite the drugs he breathed in, Finn struggled to stay awake, to keep Rey in his sights on the cot in front of him, Poe behind him.

Daylight was piercing on D'Qar—although Finn registered his own exhausted mind was making the outdoors appear much brighter. In fact, the day was actually overcast. Through half-lidded eyes, Finn watched Chewbacca step beside Rey's stretcher, moaning and taking one of her limp hands. Skywalker stepped down the ramp after him, cloak billowing in the gentle breeze, giving instructions to the medical staff in a soothing tone.

"Luke!"

Finn's head rotated to the side, and he saw General Organa step from the flurry of movement by the _Millennium Falcon,_ her cry echoing across the landing field. Instantly, Skywalker looked up and ran to his sister. They embraced and stepped apart. Leia's hands remained on Luke's shoulders. Finn couldn't hear what they were saying as he was carried away, but whatever Skywalker said caused the General's eyes to widen, a palm covering her open-mouthed shock.

The last thing Finn saw before his vision brightened into oblivion was the sight of General Organa racing up the ramp and inside the _Falcon_ to reach the one occupied cot the medical team dared not touch.

* * *

When Rey was young, she never remembered having a bath. A good sand scrub was the best she could manage. Besides, sand was the only constant in her life. Sand and hunger and the waiting. And it wasn't like Unkar Plutt would trade anything besides portions for scrap metal. Like a tub full of liquid. Who had ever heard of such a thing?

But to feel the touch of water, a gentle warmth, was unexpected.

She opened her eyes and a woman was washing her side, cleansing it. The touch was so heavenly that Rey closed her eyes and almost sank back into a comfortable sleep, but then all of the events of the day came rushing back to her like a collision, and her heart beat in skips and jumps.

 _Finn. Poe. BB-8. Master Luke._

Rey sipped a cool breath in recollection. The unseeing eyes of Kylo Ren before she commanded him to sleep. The way Poe lay limp in her arms, too light, too still. Finn's eyes full of hurt when she left him and the droid, and Chewie took them away. Master Luke, hands raised calmly while destruction reigned down around him in sharp points that battered into Kylo Ren's body.

 _And you know who you are now. Don't forget that._

Rey stirred abruptly, not meaning to disturb the woman healing her, but she had already finished wrapping up her side again. The white cloth was soft, and the doctor had folded Rey's shirt back over the hurt and left. The scavenger felt a tinge of guilt for not expressing her gratitude to the Resistance personnel, but her stomach grumbled, and she felt a renewed energy, a drive.

She needed to find Skywalker.

Rey sat up slowly, relieved that her side only panged with hurt briefly and then subsided. She clutched her ribs and stood, examining her surroundings. The medical bay was open and full of light with large windows that showed off a dense forest and cloudy sky. There was a long row of beds but only two other occupants in the entire room.

Finn was on her left side, lying on his stomach, shirtless, a bandage wrapped around his lower back. He slept peacefully as Rey regarded him with affection, her heart beginning to resume its normal pace now that she knew they had made it back to D'Qar together, and she had saved him from the First Order's clutches.

And… Poe?

Dameron was lying a few beds away to her right, isolated in a way. Whereas Rey's and Finn's areas had been free of tools and equipment, Poe seemed hooked up to every medical device imaginable. Tubes stuck into his wrists, and a large mask over his face provided oxygen. Rey walked over to him, mixed feelings cutting into her conscience sharper than the pain in her abdomen. If she had only gotten to him sooner, before Hux. Finn had been right: She should have gotten to Poe first, knowing he was in imminent danger.

Rey leaned over and scanned Poe's body. Although he was still pale, he was breathing easier than she had noticed from before in the cave.

As if on cue to make an exit, Rey's stomach gurgled in protest. Just like she had done many times on Jakku, Rey sought out food by following her nose, and it was an easy chore. A tray of food had been set by her bedside, so she didn't feel guilty inspecting it and dumping the contents into her pockets. Next, she picked up a cup beside the tray and sniffed it. Water. She drained the contents of the cup then stole a shivery glance across her two friends' unstirring forms before slipping away.

While she wandered through the base, not particularly sure where she was going, Rey wolfed down a thick slice of bread. It was freshly baked and tasted sweet—a kind of bread she had never encountered before. A dark brown color, it was filled with nuts and dried fruit that instantly filled her empty stomach.

She passed rows upon rows of rooms that might have been quarters before hearing hushed voices. Her senses instantly tuned to caution, and even though she was among allies, Rey hid behind a nearby corner, holding her breath and listening to the conversation.

A woman spoke with a droid in a hushed tone. "I'm not sure what's to be done with him."

"Is he conscious yet?" the droid inquired.

"No, but he will be soon. I've given him a neural inhibitor, but it won't be enough."

"Electrical fields are in place, Dr. Kalonia," the droid said. "I'm sure it will be enough to contain him."

"Yes, but I worry…"

"May I ask, what about?"

"The General…" The woman's voice trailed off, and then Rey heard the clatter of footsteps coming her way. She sucked in a breath and pressed herself against the wall as the two figures passed.

When it was clear they were farther down the corridor, Rey padded soundlessly in the direction they had come from. The entryway at the end was locked, a red light pinging in place of a doorknob to indicate the secrecy of the room.

The door at once puzzled her. _Secrets? In the Resistance?_

She would have anticipated mysteries such as this in such a deceitful camp as the one she lived in on Jakku, but not here. Not among friends.

Luckily, Master Luke had taught her a nice trick for opening locked doors.

Rey closed her eyes and felt the weight of the lock in her mind, then she simply released it. The bolt clicked in place, the hatch sliding open, and the red light flicking to green. _Success._

Rey stepped into the shadowy light of this room and discerned how different it was from the med bay she just left. There was a quality of brooding and sadness in this space that drew out her curiosity and hopefulness at the same time. This was a place of mourning, of anger, but one of reflection as well. It was a quiet place, and Rey stepped toward the dim light in the center of it.

As she approached, it was clear that she was looking at a room within a room. She sensed his presence long before she saw him, lying pale and motionless on a bed. A thin white sheet covered his body up to his chest, his hands placed at his sides.

In sleep, Kylo Ren appeared innocent, but how deceptive that appearance was! Rey flashed back to their battle on Vera 5, to Ren's revelation. They had been intended for each other. Rey shivered, yet she knew Kylo Ren had divulged a different side of himself that night. He had shown doubt, vulnerability, and uncertainty for who he had become.

The dark lord was cordoned off from her by a thick clear wall of plastic, and there were sensors in place inside his room, as well as outside, monitoring him. What had the doctor said about "neural inhibitors?" They knew what Kylo Ren was capable of. The Resistance knew this would be a difficult man to imprison.

 _So they built him a cage_ , Rey thought, and even though she loathed this man, a small part of her couldn't help but empathize with him. Having his abilities, she wouldn't want to be in his place.

"Nor would I," said a voice behind her.

Rey gasped out loud, whirling around to find Master Luke's sister, General Organa, sitting behind her on a white bench.

"I-I'm sorry," Rey apologized. "I didn't realize you were here."

"Looking for Luke, I assume?" Leia asked. In the shadows of the secret room, the General's face was drawn, but her eyes shone with an inner merriment. The Jedi in training realized this was a quality that Master Luke shared with her.

Rey nodded. "I guess I wasn't sure where I was going."

Leia waved her hand. "Don't worry. I trust you're feeling better?"

"Yes," Rey said. "Thank you."

The General made a motion for Rey to sit beside her, and the young woman did so

reluctantly. It was the first time that the two had spoken since Han Solo's death, and it made the moment even stranger to know that they were reunited in the presence of the man who had killed Leia's partner: her only son.

They sat for some time, side by side. Rey felt the weight of new facts weighing her shoulders down and preying on her thoughts. She couldn't withhold the secret any longer, especially from someone who already knew.

"Kylo Ren told me that… I am a Kenobi." Rey let out a rushing breath.

 _There. It's been said._

Without missing a beat, Leia replied, "I see. Well, I expect you want the truth."

Rey looked at Leia with astonishment plain on her face.

Leia gave her a half-smile, eyes roaming back to rest on her son, and then she began.

"Your mother was the daughter of Obi-Wan Kenobi. She knew little of her father, but grew up outside of his world with the Jedi and the Rebellion. The force was strong with her family, and she grew up to be an excellent pilot, but she did not wish to be part of her father's cause. She wanted to lead a quiet life. But then she married a scavenger from Jakku. Inspired by his wife's background, he became a cataloguer and scholar of ancient Jedi texts and prophecies. You were born a few years after your parents met.

"I kept in touch with your parents. Luke knew your father well because of his profession, and Han admired your mother's flying skills. We always had plans to introduce you to Ben, knowing that his abilities would match the ones your mother saw you demonstrate from an early age. We saw a… similarity in temperament."

"You matched us from my birth," said Rey, interrupting without meaning to.

Leia tilted her head to one side, thoughtful. "We already knew your destinies would be entwined. Luke foretold it. We just weren't sure how. And then Snoke began gaining power. When you were four, a band of smugglers broke into the Jedi Temple on Coruscant and stole many important artifacts. Your parents went off to find the smugglers and reclaim the artifacts, and that's the last anyone saw of them. I assumed that they took you with them, and you shared their fate."

Leia paused, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She gazed down at them in reflection.

Rey's heart was beating faster and faster in her chest with each new piece of her history unlocked. She didn't want to ask the question, but she had to: "So you don't know if they're alive or not?"

"I'm not sure," Leia responded slowly. "What does your heart tell you?"

Rey dipped into the well of scant memories related to her parents. She only saw flickers, brief images she could not differentiate between reality and dream.

"They never would have left me on that desert world if they were alive."

Leia bowed her head in agreement and stood, walking towards the thick plastic separating her from her son.

"When Han mentioned you and said your name, I knew immediately who you were, Rey. And when you came to me after Starkiller, and I saw you for the first time, I knew I was staring at the daughter-in law I could have had." The general placed her fingers on the wall in front of her. "He's not all bad, no matter what you may hear from others in the Resistance. Poe knew him."

Rey was surprised at that. Then again, she didn't know very much about Dameron.

"They grew up together. Ben's not evil—in fact, he has a bigger heart than I ever had. But his ambition is what led him astray… That and his penchant for rebelling…" General Organa sighed, and it seemed that, rather than tears, pure pain welled in her eyes. "Just like his father."

Rey stood and walked apprehensively to Leia. Then she placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said.

General Organa bit her lip, controlling her emotions, but her voice was very small and tired. "Rey, I don't know what's going to happen to him."

There was too much to take in, and Rey felt her head spinning with all of the new information Leia had told her. She had to leave, so Rey backed away from the General and exited the secret room, running back to the main medical bay where there was more light and no cages.

When she returned to the large room of broad windows and long rows of cots, she saw Finn sitting up on his bed, and Rey's heart soared. She immediately raced over to him, singing his name rather than shouting it. And when he heard her voice, his head turned so quickly Rey was afraid he might have pulled a muscle.

"Finn!" she cried, embracing him in a huge hug. His body was warm, skin soft. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he said, grinning, as if he was surprised at his own response. "It's strange to have the feeling back in my legs, but the new plate seems to work."

Rey breathed a deep sigh of relief, stealing a glance at Poe's unconscious form, and Finn followed suit.

"The medical staff said he's going to make it," Finn said softly, teeth gritted. The relief was obvious in his voice, but Rey also sensed the hidden anger. Anger at the First Order, Hux, and Kylo Ren.

Rey sat down beside Finn, and then it was like a switch had been flipped in her mind. She couldn't control the tears that began spilling down her cheeks, dropping onto her lap and the bed sheets, dotting both with specks of salty water.

"Rey…" Finn placed his hands on her shoulders, comforting, questioning. It felt so good to be near him, like coming home.

The scavenger wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, her voice cracking. Why couldn't she just come right out and say it?

"I... have something to tell you," Rey said, and her breath hitched.

Finn's brown eyes widened, sympathetic. "What is it?"

Rey took a deep shuddering breath. "I know who I am."

And then Finn's arms folded around her, and Rey let herself be held, leftover tears on her eyelashes fluttering across his skin, but the ex-stormtrooper didn't seem to mind. His voice was muffled as her left ear pressed into his chest.

"Tell me everything."

TBC

 **A/N:** Yay—I'm back! The next few chapters will be more angst-driven than action-driven. Poe and Kylo POV sections are coming up too! Next chapter: Poe finally wakes up, fluff, and nightmares! Apologies if there are any medical inconsistencies here—I am definitely not a doctor! Thanks sooooo much for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. I was really touched by the lovely feedback on Chapter 7, and I appreciate all of you—thanks!

~Ista ^_^


	9. Let's Dance For A While

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 9: Let's Dance For A While**

Poe Dameron woke up gradually, halfway in between dream and memory, cotton ball tufts framing the visions and crafting cobwebs of uncertainty in his consciousness.

He remembered pain. That was all. It was a blinding, crushing pressure that consumed his faculties, casting him into a starless void.

Poe heard screams, of adults, of children. He clung to their fear and perceived their emotions as a living beast with sharp claws, tearing into his memories and devouring them with an evil gleam on its face.

Yet, on the brink of succumbing to this creature, Dameron felt something else. Tingling, it began to spread through his limbs, washing away all doubts, filling his mind with nothing but peace and serenity.

Poe felt there was a living, breathing source of this happiness, and so he stubbornly opened his eyes, turning away from the darkness.

Everything was too bright, too blurry. Poe mustered every ounce of strength he had to _wake up_ , and his vision slowly cleared.

A woman's face greeted him.

She was younger than him by about a decade. Her long brown hair was pulled back into loops, and her hazel eyes were looking away from him, unfocused yet completely concentrated on her task. Poe thought she was beautiful, but not in an overly romantic way. She was unique, and Dameron recognized her. Where had he seen her before? He cursed his foggy mind for not cooperating with his own desire for clarity.

Poe closed his eyes as a stab of pain traveled across his ribcage, but instantly another wave of warmth swept over him, eradicating the discomfort. Dameron carefully opened his eyes again and studied the young woman's movements. Then he realized—she was holding his left hand, massaging it gently. Each time her hand rolled into his, kneading his palm, another pacifying wave washed over him. Dameron wondered whether she was a healer or a Jedi. But then the glow drenched him again in peacefulness, and he accepted the sensation freely, not particularly caring _who_ this woman was—simply that she _was._

 _Is this a dream?_

Poe gave into the deliciousness of the feathery bed beneath him, the hand massage, and a soft sigh escaped his lips.

The young woman glanced at him, only then noticing that he was awake. Surprise turned to delight on her face, almost as tender as her touch on his skin.

"Welcome back!"

Her voice was airy and musical, a hint of a blush on her cheeks. The light from the windows behind them created a halo effect around her figure, illuminating her features.

Dameron wanted to pinch himself. He thought: _Am I dead?_ Then something strange happened. The words passed from his brain to his lips, but when his throat worked to make the sounds, only a muffled wheeze came out.

Poe froze, trying to speak again. His throat was gratingly sore and wouldn't cooperate; it would only produce silence. Dameron's mouth opened slightly, alarm likely registering on his face, because the woman said, "Your throat is damaged. The doctors expect it may take as long as a month or two to heal."

The pilot's hand immediately clasped beneath his chin, panicking. He hadn't noticed the thick swathe around his neck before. How much time had passed since he was awake? What had happened exactly?

 _BB-8._

Poe had to make sure the droid was safe after what happened on Jakku. That had been his fault entirely. And there was someone else he had forgotten. The pilot shut his eyes in frustration, his fists clenched.

"Poe?

He wracked his brain to remember the image of his friend, his smile, the sight of him in a cell, lying motionless on a cot.

 _Finn._

This fantasy was over. Dameron had to get moving; he had people to check on. So the pilot attempted to move, rustling under thick blankets despite the immediate wave of weakness that surged over his body.

"Poe, stop!"

Dameron paused and panted from the small exertion, his head resting back on his pillow even though every muscle in his body wanted to bolt, to make sure his friends were all right. Some bruised ribs and a burning throat were no big deal.

"You're staying here a bit longer," the woman said, her tone an equal part admonishment and worry. "Here." She reached into a pack on the floor beside her and pulled out a small computer pad with an attached keyboard.

"What do you remember?" she asked him intently.

Poe took the keyboard, typing a single word.

FINN

He thrust the machine back in her hands, and the woman smiled when she read his message.

"He's fine, Poe. He left the hospital a few days ago, and the doctors were able to replace the support brace along his back. He can walk again." She leaned in closer to him, and he picked up her scent—it reminded him of the freshness of tree sap. She asked again: "What do you remember?"

 _This lady is persistent._ Poe searched his memory. He vaguely recalled bits and pieces, but they were all scrambled together. The woman handed back the keypad to him, and Poe typed slowly.

A MISSION?

She nodded after reading his response. "Yes. Go on."

Dameron took the keyboard back and thought.

CAVE?

She smiled. "Yes. What else?"

But Dameron was done playing her game of answering questions. _I have a few of my own, sweetheart._

WHERE'S BB-8?

As if on cue, Poe heard a familiar set of beeps, and the scurrying droid zoomed down the center aisle of the medical ward.

Dameron immediately shouted out but was only rewarded with an aching and constricting throat. Placing one hand over the bandage in his neck, Poe reached the other one down to stroke BB-8's head assuredly. The droid was beeping up a storm, asking him all kinds of questions, and the pilot's heart sank when he knew he couldn't answer them all. But he typed into the keypad and lowered it for the droid to see.

BUDDY! ARE YOU OK?

BB-8 chirped an affirmative, and Poe settled back into his bed, continuing to pat the droid as it cooed happily. The pilot felt exhausted by this reunion but also relieved that his friends were alive.

His attention turned to the woman sitting by his bed who had sat motionlessly, but then she reached down and stroked the droid's head as well. BB-8 beeped and sidled up to her. So it knew her.

Poe examined the woman more closely and searched his memory for traces of her. He typed into the keypad, and she looked at it.

I KNOW YOU?

She smiled again—such a bright smile! "I'm Rey."

The name struck a chord in his thoughts. He remembered a dark place, lying on the rocky ground, and the woman kneeling in front of him, telling him to sleep.

YOU SAVED ME

Rey nodded. "And you saved Finn and BB-8. You sacrificed yourself for them."

Poe managed a half smile and typed more.

I OWE YOU ONE

Rey shook her head. "Let's call ourselves even."

Poe inclined his head in deference, and that was when he noticed his old jacket covering him, spread on top of the sheets. The jacket—Finn's jacket—was the last thing he saw as tiredness seeped through his bones. Rey removed the computer pad and placed his now-limp hand from BB-8's head back on the cot beside his torso. Poe sighed and felt inward peace as he drifted off. Rey didn't need to lull him to sleep this time; the pilot closed his eyes with a blissful smile on his face.

* * *

Finn couldn't remember whose idea it was to have a picnic. His mind was already preoccupied with the orders from General Organa during his latest briefing that morning—training and a leadership position to start immediately. Her orders were thrilling and an honor, but Finn was left wondering just how busy he would be for the next few months. The Resistance was missing its best pilot, (although they had reclaimed Luke Skywalker and a Kenobi) and they were constantly searching for new recruits. Leia had been impressed with Finn's performance on his last mission. Finn couldn't help but wonder if she had even bothered to read his report or the parts where he mentioned being captured, causing Poe's imprisonment and torture, etc.

But his training and relentless schedule would start tomorrow. Today was his picnic with Rey and Poe and BB-8. And it was going to be a success if it was the last thing Finn ever did.

He had ordered a variety of foods from the mess hall that day and stuffed a pack full of them, including a thermos filled with cold tea. The plan was to meet Rey in the medical bay. Poe hadn't been outside since Vera 5, and Rey thought the outing would do him good. Anything to make his friend smile. Finn had only seen the man smile once since he woke up, and that was when Finn first saw him again after the mission gone awry. It was strange not to hear his voice, joking with just the right amount of sarcasm.

 _Focus on the positives. Rey is safe. Poe is safe. You can walk again._

The ex-stormtrooper didn't have to be reminded how lucky he was that he had regained his mobility. One of the first things he had done after being released by the medical staff was go for a run. He ran for an hour, through the landing field and forest surrounding the Resistance base. He ran until his legs nearly buckled and sweat poured down his back, but the act was necessary and invigorating. Finn was determined now to be useful, to be part of any group that would defeat the First Order.

Rey's smile was brighter than the sun streaming through the med bay's massive windows when Finn met her and Poe at its entrance. Poe sat in a wheelchair, computer pad resting in his lap, and Finn felt disconnected from this scene for a moment; it was strange, this role reversal.

But Finn brandished a winning smile to match Rey's and held up his bag of food.

"Hope you're both hungry!"

Rey bent over to exchange a knowing glance with Dameron. "We practiced walking a bit today."

Her comment brought a rush of color to the pilot's cheeks, and he shrugged. Finn stepped closer to them and punched Poe's arm teasingly.

"That's great! You'll have to show me when we get to the picnic spot."

Poe looked away, as if embarrassed, and nodded half-heartedly. Finn swallowed back a bitter taste as he examined his friend again. Every day, the pilot looked better, but there were still dark circles under his eyes that never went away, no matter how much Dameron rested. Most of the bandages were gone, save a thin strip of cloth around his throat that had been dipped in bacta. Still, there was something that had changed about his friend. The pilot Finn knew before their mission on Vera 5 had been exuberant, cocky, and brash. There had always been a level of optimism in Poe that Finn had never seen in another being before. But after the incident on Vera 5, that spark had vanished. His frame was thin underneath the brown leather jacket, the one he refused to take off since Finn had draped it over him on the _Falcon._

Finn told himself that his friend was still healing. Poe would be back to normal any day now.

 _This is why we're going on the picnic. To help Poe get better._

Finn took a quick breath and gestured towards the doors leading outside.

As if on cue, BB-8 came bursting through the very same doors, beeping euphorically. Finn could have hugged the droid at that moment, because its entrance made Dameron beam. Instantly, Poe reached down to pat the droid and gave it a thumbs-up.

Finn felt guilt tug at his heart again. He hadn't told Poe that BB-8 was going to be assisting him with his pilot training and new duties in the future. But he supposed that too could wait until after the picnic.

The four exited the medical bay and into the glorious afternoon. D'Qar's sun had finally come out from behind a sheath of thick clouds to heat the ground under their feet and soak into their skin. The warmth was heavenly, and as Rey pushed him, Finn spied Poe's eyes close with delight, basking in the scent of trees and grass and living things.

They only had to walk for a few minutes, and in that time, Finn admired Rey's calm presence. Ever since she divulged her heritage to him, she had been relatively silent on the base, spending most of her time looking after Poe. Finn couldn't be more grateful to Rey for her help, but he also wanted to encourage her to aid the Resistance. She was still training with Master Luke, but her schedule was more lax than it had been before. Perhaps she could join him in training so he wouldn't be alone?

Eventually they reached a spot on top of a hill looking down upon a small green field, surrounded by forest. Rey searched in her pack, her arm brushing the lightsaber she had reclaimed from Skywalker after Finn borrowed it _,_ and she produced a beige blanket. With a flourish and a laugh, she spread it out on the grass.

Rey sighed, examining the scene around them. "It's perfect!"

Finn couldn't agree more. Poe began to stir in his chair, and the ex-stormtrooper immediately bent down to help him, but Dameron waved him away. The pilot angled his feet slightly and used the armrests on his chair for support as he stiffly rose into a standing position. With a commanding look from Rey, Finn stood next to Poe when the man took a few shuffling steps on the grass, his eyes sharp with concentration. His friends flanked him on either side, hands not touching him but outstretched in case he fell.

Dameron didn't stumble, but he handed the computer pad to Rey once his feet touched the blanket so that he could use both hands for stability as he lowered himself onto the ground. Finn disregarded the furious beating of his own heart afterwards as he busied himself with unpacking the bag of edibles. He didn't understand why he was still so protective of Poe. Perhaps it had something to do with how fragile the pilot was now.

Finn was proud to have brought a veritable feast. Most of it was soft fare, since Dameron had just started eating solid foods again, but the texture did not diminish the medley of flavors. There was a smooth cheese spread on fresh nutty rolls, fruit salad, steamed vegetables tossed in a vinaigrette, mashed legumes with gravy, and sweet rice pudding for dessert.

Rey sat down across from Finn so that they were all in a small circle. Her eyes widened in surprise at the variety of food Finn managed to scrape together, and Finn had to remind himself that Rey was still getting used to quantity of food and varying flavors offered by the Resistance. BB-8 matched Rey's amazement, whistling with envy. Meanwhile, Finn set out eating utensils and plates, pouring small cups of tea for his friends. He placed a cup in Poe's hands, and the man nodded back at him, a small smile flickering across his face for a moment before he looked away and brought the dark liquid to his lips.

It was a small piece of gratitude, but Finn would take it. He'd take whatever communication from Poe he could get.

BB-8 decided to explore the field below its human friends, and the three began to eat. Both Finn and Rey were deliberate in giving Poe first dibs on all the dishes, but the man only took a small amount of each food and proceeded to eat a tiny fraction of what was on his plate.

"Oh, c'mon!" Finn chided. "You can do better than that!"

Poe's eyebrows shot up at the outburst, and his face took on a pinched look, punching something into his handheld computer and showing it to Finn.

FOOD IS GOOD BUT NOT HUNGRY

Rey shot Finn a warning glare, and Finn sighed, hands up defensively. "Sorry, Poe. I just… I just want you to get better… I didn't mean to force you." Finn trailed off, shoving a spoonful of pudding in his mouth to stop from saying anything else that was going to get him into trouble. How could he tell Dameron that he wasn't angry at _him_? He was angry at the First Order and the villains who had hurt him.

After a few moments of painful silence, Rey hummed with pleasure, her eyes swooning after taking a bite of the legumes. "Poe, have you tried this gravy? It's monumental!"

Finn smirked. "Monumental gravy?"

Rey threw a spoon at his head, and Finn ducked.

Poe shook his head meekly and let Rey feed him a large portion of mashed beans in the rich sauce. Finn watched in astonishment as Poe nodded allowed her to feed him three spoonfuls more. Rey could truly work miracles.

"I _knew_ you'd like it," she said, "but you'll need to save room for more."

"More?" Finn said with a laugh, glancing down at the large spread. "Have you got a cake up your sleeve?"

Rey's mouth opened in mock surprise. "How did you know?" And from the folds of her dress, she produced a small parcel. Removing the waxy paper, Rey revealed a frosted confection with white frosting on top and citrus filling between layers of spongy cake. Rey split the pastry in thirds and passed plates around. When Finn tasted a bite of it, his eyes rolled with delight.

"What do you call this?" he asked, his voice muffled by the mouthful of sweet.

Poe tapped his wrist, and he looked at the man's keypad, Rey following suit.

CALM BEFORE THE STORM CAKE?

Both of them immediately burst out laughing.

Then Rey had frosting on her face and both men took turns trying to get her to wipe it off without actually using words. Poe winked and scratched his chin; Finn mimicked the pilot's gesture as he wondered aloud where BB-8 had gone. Poe continued rubbing his chin as soon as Finn stopped, and Rey gave them an odd look.

"Why do you both keep doing that?" she said, causing Poe to grin and look away. Finn chuckled and took a napkin to Rey's face, dabbing at the frosting and showing it to her.

"Ohhh," she said then pushed Finn's shoulders, knocking him over when she realized she was the brunt of the joke.

As one hour became two, late afternoon became evening, and the sun began to dip lower in the sky. Rey was spread on the grass, engrossed in some book on ancient Jedi artifacts she had borrowed from Skywalker. Poe was picking at the remnants of his piece of cake, and Finn crisscrossed his hands above his face to capture the rays of yellow light blossoming to orange across the horizon.

BB-8 interrupted their reverie with some agitated beeps as it zoomed up the hill towards their picnic spot. At once, Poe got to his knees, placing a finger on the droid's head as it approached him. His hands opened, palms facing up questioningly, and Dameron pointed to his head. Finn observed the exchange with wonderment; the two had obviously figured out a kind of sign language, a way for the pilot to communicate without even using his keyboard.

BB-8 whirled excitedly, and Finn caught the gist of what the droid was saying. Other Resistance members began to join them on the hill and its slope. Some brought blankets and containers of food, like they had; others just picked a spot and lay on the cushioned grass.

Rey set her book down and watched the others. "A concert?"

Finn exchanged a look with Poe.

The ex-stormtrooper said, "I forgot there was a concert tonight. It's a Corellian harp thing."

Poe glanced at BB-8, and then Dameron grinned and clapped his hands. It was as if a light had turned on inside him, and the expression made Finn feel that all of the effort and planning that went into this day had been worth it. Even if Poe's smile vanished immediately after Finn saw it. Even if the pilot settled back onto the ground and began to scratch at the bandage around his neck, something Finn had seen him do countless times, almost unconsciously. Even though it was nothing more than a glimmer of hope, it was worth it.

Rey noticed Poe's sudden dip in energy and sat next to him, back to back, so that he could lean against her. BB-8 settled next to Finn, its lights flicking on and off, a sign of anticipation. At least a hundred Resistance members were sitting in twos and threes around them now, quieting down as the sun set at their backs. Then a man and a woman stepped out of the forest and walked towards the base of the hill, stopping in front of the audience where two chairs had been placed. Although their faces were difficult to see in the twilight, they both carried a small musical instrument. The instruments had strings and were heart-shaped; the woman's was slightly smaller than the man's, and she positioned it on her lap while the man set his on the ground.

"I've never heard the Corellian harp before," whispered Rey. "What's it like?"

Finn shrugged; he hadn't heard of it either. But Poe jabbed him on the shoulder and handed him the keypad.

IT SOUNDS LIKE DYING LOTH-CATS

Rey had to stifle her laughter when she read the message, which caused her to choke, which caused Poe to thump her on the back, which caused Finn to snicker uncontrollably. Then BB-8 beeped a rebuke at all of them to QUIET DOWN, like a stern parent, and the concert commenced.

Finn's first instinct was to cover his ears because he thought he thought it might be some form of torture. Then he realized that it was just the music. Like twin sirens, the shrill plucking of strings was a discordant sound for such a delicate instrument. It was _so bad_ that Finn had to physically stop himself from stuffing napkins into his ears to cease the awful shrieks. As he glanced over at Rey, he could tell that she felt the same way because there was a pained expression on her face. And when Dameron nudged his shoulder again, Finn was almost hoping that the sound was too much for the pilot and would be the perfect excuse to leave early. But instead, Poe pointed to BB-8 and showed off the computer pad.

WATCH BB

Finn glanced at the droid, who appeared to be listening with rapt attention to the hideous music, but there was nothing out of the ordinary about it.

The ex-stormtrooper shrugged his shoulders and mumbled, "Why?"

A ghost of a smile hinted Poe's face.

JUST KEEP WATCHING

So Finn bared the intolerable concert a bit longer, sneaking side-glances at the droid whenever he could. And he was rewarded about five minutes into the performance.

BB-8 didn't make a sound, but it started moving right to left, swaying slightly in time to the music. As if unaware of what it was doing, more like a reflex, the droid bobbed its head back and forth, back and forth, lights blinking on and off.

Finn had never seen the droid do anything like it before. He twisted his neck around to face Dameron and mouthed, "Is it _dancing?"_

Poe just dipped his head in approval, an expression of fondness on his face, and Finn squeezed Rey's hand so she didn't miss the droid's moves. The unmistakable "awww" sound that came out of her mouth spoke louder than words. They were all incredibly touched by BB-8's response to the music. And as the concert went on, and BB-8 kept dancing, the raucous dissonance began to alter in Finn's mind. He started to pick out melodies and harmonies he hadn't heard before, and the sound took on a hypnotic quality, enchanting its listeners as the horizon turned crimson and a canopy of stars came out.

Finn took a deep breath and felt his friends breathe in unison with him. Rey's hand remained in his, her head resting on Poe's shoulder. In this way, they were connected, now and forever.

When the music finally stopped for a brief intermission, Rey pressed into Finn's hand, indicating Dameron. The pilot's eyes were closed, head bowed and leaning against Rey.

Finn nodded and patted BB-8's metallic shell.

"Time to go home," he said after the droid's chirping inquiry.

With Rey's help, Finn picked up Poe's light frame, careful to support his neck, and set the pilot gently back in his chair. While Finn made sure Dameron was secure, Rey pocketed her book, picked up the remaining foodstuffs, and gathered the dishes, storing them in Finn's pack and slinging it over her shoulders. BB-8 used its metal claws to fold up the blanket before holding it out to Rey to carry. Finn thought about placing the blanket over Poe's body, but the night held no chill, and the pilot's jacket was warm enough.

As the four headed back to the medical bay, Finn tried to push Poe's chair as slowly as possible. Rey didn't question his speed, and even BB-8 kept pace with the group at an even clip. It was because none of them wanted the day to end. Finn took a deep breath and tried to soak up the stars and the distant music of the Corellian harps as the doors to the Resistance base swished open.

 **A/N:** Happy Day After Valentines! For those of you who were craving some serious fluff, you're welcome! For those of you craving serious Kylo and Poe angst, that'll be in the _next_ chapter. Thank you again for all the favorites and follows! Did I mention that reviews make me go all Fosse and jazz hands? Well, they do. Let me know what you like, what you don't, and what I should include in future chapters! Hope you're enjoying the story!

~Ista ^_^


	10. Sometimes They Rock and Roll

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Warning: Self harm, dark thoughts**

 **Chapter 10: Sometimes They Rock and Roll**

Two weeks passed, the slow burning of hell.

Kylo Ren was a prisoner. And it was his duty as a prisoner to escape and return to the First Order, to the mantra, to his Supreme Leader, the mantra, his grandfather.

 _Grandfather, show me the way. Show me the Dark Side of the Force. Make the First Order great like you were great. Make_ me _rise to greatness in your image, grandfather…_

And then the mantra stifled and split, cut off by the wooziness he experienced every waking moment, an effect of the neural inhibitor drugs he was forced to swallow daily, scraping his throat dry and warping his powers so that he was weakened, pathetic.

How could he escape when his connection to the Force diminished with each day he spent in the brightened cage?

As if in mockery of his weakness, the Supreme Leader visited him nightly in the form of a white beast that sat on his chest, crushing the breath from him.

Kylo Ren's mind would scream in protest, but no matter how hard he tried to squirm away from the apparition, he would remain frozen, eyes glued open and forced to watch. He was forced to watch as Snoke fawned over him, hissing breath trickling over his face, cold black eyes, pale long fingers like tendrils stroking his chest.

 _-What an embarrassment. You lie here and do nothing._

Kylo Ren wanted to cry, "No!" He wanted to shout to his commander that he had not been weak when facing Skywalker—the Jedi had simply been too powerful for him to overcome. And now they were pumping drugs into his system that suppressed his natural talent and tendencies. Everything was backwards. When he sought the _rage_ , it would not come. When Kylo Ren sought the _drive_ , it vanished.

 _-You sicken me. You are just like your mother, after all, and her bleeding heart of a brother. You will become weak like them._

Kylo would feel nausea, swallowing back the pain and frustration. If only he could move—if only he could get away from the horrible creature in front of him.

 _-Weakened. Pathetic._

A new thought replaced the nausea in Kylo's dreaming mind, desperate: _SAVE ME. SOMEONE SAVE ME. ANYONE. MOTHER! UNCLE!_

 _POE?_

 _-Weakened. Pathetic._

But the more often these dreams occurred, the more often Kylo Ren realized that no one was coming to save him. At least, not before the most awful part of the dream—its ending. And it always ended the same way.

 _-But perhaps your life force is still strong._

Snoke grinned, the sound of necks breaking, and his mouth curled upwards. His smile revealed teeth Ren never knew the Supreme Leader possessed. They were needle-sharp and jutted out at odd angles from his puckering purple lips. A roaring, rushing sound filled Kylo's ears as his mouth opened in silent anguish and Snoke bent over him eagerly, jaws snapping, sucking out his soul.

That's when Kylo Ren would wake up, sometime in the morning after sleeping only a few hours the previous night. He would wake up screaming, partly in terror, partly in anger. Ironically, even though the dream made him feel powerless, it was precisely during this time of day, when he woke up, that the neural inhibitors would be working their way out of his system. Kylo would begin to tap into his strength again, and he used his anger to lash out at the cage and anything (or anyone) inside it. Sometimes he would have an audience. Sometimes it was his mother; sometimes it was Skywalker. But Kylo didn't care. He didn't destroy for them. He did it because it was the only way to express himself, to get back at the ones who had taken everything away from him, and to scratch the itch the inhibitors kept at bay.

And, deep down, Kylo enjoyed it. He enjoyed chaos in its purest forms.

"I'LL OBLITERATE YOU!" he would shriek. "I'LL ERADICATE THE RESISTANCE AND ALL THOSE YOU LOVE AND ALL THAT YOU CARE ABOUT!"

"Tantrum" was a small word. Kylo Ren made it a movement, a cot-tearing, wall-thrashing, head-bashing symphony. Like a wild animal, he filled the tiny cell with his rage, and the anger bottled up, energy pulsing through the space like static electricity, relentless.

The first time Luke Skywalker had appeared, Kylo had been surprised. But now Ren expected him, like a patient nursemaid. He'd appear when his nephew's frustration was spent, another blanket ripped to tatters at his bare feet. Kylo would feel his blood boiling hot, seething at his uncle—this man who had stripped him of his freedom. No, more than that: his destiny.

"New words of wisdom, Jedi?" Ren spat at the bearded man.

Luke Skywalker stood very still, his hands folded across his robe. The old man's purpose was to deliver medicine because the Resistance (and dear Mother) had realized he was the only one who _could_. This was after the idiots had sent in a med droid with a syringe the first time. There had only been pieces of the pieces of the droid left to pick up after _that_ comical incident. Enter the Jedi, the only one who could make him take his bitter medicine. The only one who could control him. And although the Jedi's function was simple, Kylo knew his uncle couldn't resist throwing a sermon into the mix during his visit. Skywalker had a _captive_ audience, after all.

But today the man looked tired.

 _Good,_ thought Kylo. _It's about time_ you _feel how_ I _feel._ Maybe the rebels were dying off. Maybe it had all become too much for the old man.

"Would you like the easy way or the hard way?" Skywalker asked quietly. His face was expressionless, but the bags under his eyes had bags. How many times had they repeated this little scene? Over a dozen at least.

Kylo honestly thought about it. The hard way was more fun but required energy that he wasn't willing to expend, since it involved another battle of wills between himself and his uncle. Ultimately, his limbs would freeze and his mouth forced open, allowing Skywalker to drop the capsules down his throat. It was humiliating every time, and Kylo recognized the importance of conserving his strength.

 _Wait them out,_ he posited. _Let them think you're softening up._

Ren bared his teeth at the Jedi.

"The easy way, old man. At least, it's easier for you, isn't it?"

Skywalker tilted his head. "In what way?"

"Faster, I mean." Kylo felt himself looking beyond his uncle, at the door directly behind him that was always sealed shut. If only he could get past the man—escape his grasp. "So you don't have to look at me too long."

"And why wouldn't I want to look at you?"

Kylo smirked. "Because I remind you of _them_ , don't I? Your best friend and your father. And you can't stand it."

Skywalker had a phenomenal poker face, but something in his eyes changed ever so slightly, and Kylo felt a tiny glow of victory for getting past his uncle's defenses.

"Come," Skywalker said, ignoring the comments. Instead, he held out two powder blue pills in his flesh and blood hand, his metallic one offering a small cup of water.

But Kylo wasn't finished. It frustrated him that his ability to tap into the Force had been weakened, that he couldn't probe the Jedi's mind to unlock his uncle's demons. But at least he could do a bit of damage. "You feel guilty that you weren't able to save your father's life, just as you were unable to save my father's."

Skywalker paused. There was a brief moment that Ren felt triumph for successfully stabbing into his uncle's heart again.

But the Jedi spoke, even softer than before. "Yes, I do feel guilty. Because I have a conscience."

Kylo glowered at him, his fists clenching into balls at his sides.

Skywalker didn't blink. "Just like you."

Ren roared, hurtled himself at the older man, and (as he had anticipated) was immediately blocked. But it didn't stop Kylo from slamming his fists into thin air, hindered by an invisible barrier even stronger than the one that kept him imprisoned in his cell. Kylo saw red, unaware of his surroundings, only consumed by the urge to _kill_ this man responsible for his capture, his nightmares, his torture.

In response to Ren's outburst, Skywalker simply smiled infuriatingly. The Jedi stepped closer, palms still holding the neural inhibitors and water.

"Ben, come back to us. You must realize there is no other option for you at this point. You will either join us or destroy yourself. Please choose to live, Ben. Your suffering—it's hurting your mother, and it's hurting me too."

How could Kylo express, amidst his own blind rage, that he couldn't _care less_ what his mother thought, or his bleeding-heart uncle, or any of them?

Kylo recalled the tree from Poe's mind. It was this leafy image alone that temporarily subdued his tumultuous struggling. But he now regarded it with sorrow. Dameron was surely dead, and that tree existed on another planet a lifetime ago. Still, its branches were soaked in peace, in tranquility. But Kylo Ren existed in a cave. How could he possibly turn away from his destiny now?

Ren's reverie was enough to distract his thoughts from Skywalker, but when he looked back at the older man, he was still smiling.

"Curse you!" hissed Kylo. "I abhor everything you represent."

The Jedi answered with emotionless silence. They went through the ritual, and Kylo complied, dry-swallowing the tasteless pills, sipping water slowly. His limbs were numb and offered no resistance. What was the point, anyway? He had been defeated so many times; it didn't even matter now.

Before Skywalker ambled away, his steps more gliding than separated, he said, "You are the future, Ben. One day, we will all look to you."

Kylo Ren roared in response, but his uncle did not look back, and the door closed behind him. In that scream, the young apprentice poured out his frustration, his feelings of exclusion and separation from all that he had once known and the order he had sought to establish. It was an eternal scream, one that seemed to echo off the clear wall before him and the bright lights of his cell, removing all shadow and exposing him completely.

The dark lord wiped hot tears streaking from the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand. Was his mother watching him in the darkness outside his cell? Were there more doctors, observing the effect of the inhibitors? He could not feel their presence in his system just yet. That would take another fifteen, perhaps twenty minutes.

He imagined the Resistance guards standing outside the door to his cell—perhaps _Finn_ , the traitor, was there. Because this was the most dangerous time of the day for them. When his powers were still intact.

Kylo paced the length of his cell, back and forth, brooding, letting the _fear_ flow through him, as Supreme Leader Snoke had taught him over and over. Through his compulsive walking, Ren reclaimed the mantra, and the words rang in his mind.

 _Grandfather, show me your darkness. Show me the power of the Dark Side. Help me to become great, as you were great. Show me your darkness. Grandfather, help me to become great. I am a willing student. I am a willing student. I am the one to uphold your vision for the future. I am the vision. I am that future. Show me the power of the Dark Side so that I may destroy Skywalker and everything he represents._

Kylo paced back and forth. As a reflex, his battered cot lifted in the air, and with a flick of his wrist it slammed into the clear wall with such force that it broke in two. But Kylo did not admire this damage. He had done the same thing countless times without creating any cracks in the wall. So he continued to pace, faster and faster, cycling through the mantra in his mind, allowing it to create a mental hammer that would break through his enclosure somehow, someway.

This continued for twenty minutes until he stopped his frantic walking by slamming his fist into the clear barrier. His rough voice blared anger and hatred, more sound than words. Because Kylo Ren knew what was about to happen; it had happened every day for the past fourteen days. He was losing his ability to manipulate the Force.

It happened gradually, but the first sensation was a numbness that began to spread through his limbs. Then a fog began to cloud his brain. The most annoying aspect of it all was that it felt _pleasant_ , not painful in any way. And yet, the very fact that he could _feel_ the energy drain from his once-powerful body flung him into a well of distress. Kylo Ren felt the neural inhibitors encase his body like a sheet of ice, freezing the mantra and immobilizing the Force within him.

"No…" He retched, unable to put his emotions into expressive words because all clear thoughts were blocked. He felt dizzy suddenly, another side effect of the drugs, and he slid down the clear wall, drawing his knees up to his chest. Soon, the door to his cell would open again and he would be brought some food and drink. Because he was harmless now. Kylo thought back to his night terrors, to what the Supreme Leader had said in them: _Weak, pathetic._

But he wasn't entirely powerless.

Kylo would show them; he would show them all.

Curled into himself, Ren waved his hand. It took incredible effort and concentration, but the small pieces of his torn blue blanket swirled together, like a mini tornado, and then floated high in the air above him. His fingers waggled dreamily, and then the blue shreds fell down around him, a gentle precipitation.

"I can make it rain," he said quietly.

His energy was nearly spent now, and Kylo remained on the floor, his side pressed against the transparent barrier, trying to think clearly despite the mist in his brain. Sometimes when he felt himself begin to drift off, he would slam a fist into the wall. Just so he could _feel_ something, anything. This continued for about an hour, until his knuckles were bloody and red streaked down the clear partition.

Then something happened that broke the pattern Ren had found himself trapped in for the past few weeks: Someone spoke to him from beyond the sheer wall.

"Stop that."

Surprised, dazed, Kylo Ren turned his head and saw the girl. It was Rey.

* * *

Ever since the day she had woken up on D'Qar and stumbled upon Kylo Ren's secret room and General Organa's confession, Rey had longed to return to the place. It was a combination of curiosity and frustration. The fact was that Skywalker had been increasingly cryptic with her as far as providing information about her past. Rather than divulge information Rey desperately sought about her parents and their possible whereabouts, Skywalker had thrown her into a strict regimen of physical training. And it didn't work to argue with him or press the matter at hand. In response to her complaints, the Jedi would assign Rey even greater distances to jog, more weight to lift, more hours spent in meditation.

If he spoke at all to defend his shift in training, Master Luke would only refer to the incident on Vera 5 and how she had struggled to carry Poe out of the caves.

"I don't understand!" Rey had protested. "I was able to save him! What did I do wrong?"

And the Jedi would respond with, "You will have _more_ to carry in the future."

If speaking to the older man had been futile, it was just as useless to try and talk to Finn about the situation. Although her friend listened to what she had to say with more than a modicum of interest, it was clear that during the few precious hours they were able to spend together during meals each day, his mind was elsewhere. And Rey didn't blame him. Finn had become a leader of the Resistance, one who was taxed for time between countless meetings, trainings, and missions.

Turning to Poe was equally difficult, not because the former pilot was as busy as Finn, but because Rey didn't want to burden him. Dameron had only started working again, after all, as an X-Wing mechanic, and Rey sensed his healing process was not over yet. How could she bring up her speculations about Kylo Ren to the man who had been hurt by the dark lord so deeply?

 _The cave, the tree, the fire._ The very memory of looking inside Poe's mind made Rey shiver.

Thus, she had turned to the secret room as a place for revelation. It wasn't her desire to speak with the monster who had attacked her and her friends. But there was _something_ about him that Rey needed to understand and unlock. Leia had hinted at her connection with Ren during their conversation a few weeks prior, and Rey somehow knew, could _feel_ , the dark lord was the actual subject Master Luke had been avoiding.

So Rey found herself once again in the secret room, this time alone with the figure dressed in black, huddled against the see-through barrier, part of his back to her. What a different image this was to what she had imagined facing! This man who had appeared as a monster in her mind's eye was now as threatening as a potted plant, hunched over as if just barely grasping onto life. Rey remembered what she had overheard Dr. Kalonia mentioning about the neural inhibitors, and she wondered if Kylo Ren was now exhibiting the effects of this drug.

Since he didn't notice her enter the room, Rey spent a few minutes observing him, her loathing shifting from hatred to pity to sympathy as she watched him carry out a rhythm of seemingly pointless injuries upon himself.

 _Like an animal in a cage with nowhere to go._

In one breathless moment, Rey's heart cried out to him; she couldn't take this self-abuse any longer.

"Stop that."

The words that poured out of her parted lips were a surprise to her, but they seemed even more surprising to Kylo Ren. He shifted in his seated position to get a look at her, and Rey felt how much the space was filled with an oppressing aura of hopelessness. From her viewpoint a few feet away, she gazed into the young man's eyes for the first time since the cave on Vera 5, and what she saw shocked her. Those same eyes that had once been filled with ardent ambition and clarity were now dull and glazed over. His mouth twisted into a smile that appeared more like a grimace.

 _What_ happened _to you?_ she wanted to ask him. Clearly Ren had not been tortured by the Resistance, something the First Order did automatically to new prisoners.

"Come to… observe me?" His words came out thickly, slowly, as if it took him longer to form the words.

 _The neural inhibitors,_ Rey remembered. _This must be one of their side-effects._

"No," she said peaceably. "I came to talk."

Kylo Ren shifted again on the floor, his body fumbling awkwardly over itself to face her. His movements were clumsy, like a toddler's.

"My mother… She put you up to it. How nice."

"No," Rey said, perhaps too forcefully. She took a step closer to the clear wall. "She doesn't know I'm here. No one does."

"Fool," he said to her, but there was no venom in the insult. "They know… know everything. They… You think they don't have cameras?"

As if compelled by some unseen force, Kylo thrust his right hand into the glass again, adding to the thick smear of blood on the wall. Despite the impact of his punch, his face remained impassive.

"Stop!" Rey cried when he drew his arm back for another hit, and he desisted. "Please, stop. It…" Rey took a deep breath, her words dissolving away.

 _Control yourself, Rey. This man is dangerous. Don't let your guard down for a moment._

"Can't imagine why," Kylo mumbled, observing the cuts in his knuckles. He cocked his head at her, and Rey found herself holding her breath, fearing that the invisible hands of his mind were going to latch onto her's, probing. But nothing happened.

"Oh, I get it," he continued, smiling through a scowl. "You think you're going to _change_ me… Rey Kenobi is going to save poor… poor me. Son of Han Solo. The… the boy with Vader's blood running through his veins. How cute. It's cliché of me to even say it, but you're wasting your time, Jedi."

Rey bit her tongue to prevent a tirade of anger from streaming out of her mouth. Instead, she focused again, attempting to stay centered. "I didn't come here to save you. I came to talk."

Kylo's eyes squinted at her, as if trying to decide if she was telling the truth or not. Then he laughed, a short cruel chuckle. "So… you miss our little session in the interrogation room?"

The mention of his forceful invasion of her mind made Rey's face burn.

"You were quite good at turning the tables on me, Jedi," he said. "Want to try again?"

Rey licked her lips, her patience wearing thin. "I wanted to ask you if you knew anything about my parents."

Her statement caused Kylo to perk up a bit, his back straightening, eyes regaining some of their previous brightness. "Why don't you ask the great Skywalker?"

 _Are you really going to trust this maniac with your suspicions? Your research?_

Rey cast her doubts aside. "I _did_ ask your uncle. He's… He's been very uncommunicative lately. I think he wants me to figure this out on my own."

Ren shot back, "What makes you think I know anything about your parents?"

"I don't know," Rey said honestly. "It was just a hunch. I… I mean, we _were_ 'intended' for each other, as you said." Rey recalled the phrase General Organa had used to describe her and Kylo—"similar temperament." She didn't even want to know exactly what _that_ implied.

Ren stretched out his scrunched-up limbs and stood slowly, using the wall for support. Rey thought he was going to fall for a moment, but his legs held steady, although still wobbling a bit. He began pacing the room. At first, Kylo's arms remained outstretched for balance, but then he positioned them behind his back, his lips pursed, as if contemplating the mysteries of the galaxy. As he continued walking, his movement became more fluid, stronger even. And after a few moments, he stopped, facing her directly.

"So you want me to help you locate your parents?"

Rey nodded, her skin tingling. _Is this really happening? Have I become_ this _desperate?_

"What makes you think they're still alive?"

Rey said, "I don't. But I want to know what happened to them."

A thoughtful pause. "I'll need access to some computer records, archives"

"I can get those for you."

Kylo Ren paced for a few more moments and then stopped. He stepped closer, then: "I'll help you. With one stipulation: You'll get me out of here."

Rey nearly choked. "I can't promise that."

Kylo raised his palms in the air, backtracking. "Then I won't help you."

The Jedi in training faced off against one of the most dangerous agents of the First Order. _He's the deadly catalyst, Rey. What are you doing? You're playing with fire._

But she couldn't escape the truth of General Organa's words. This man's fate was entertwined with her own. _But he's playing you._ Rey smirked. _Guess I'll just have to play him too._

"All right. I'll get you out of here. Once we figure out what happened to my parents. And you must promise to do one more thing for me."

Kylo Ren rolled his eyes. "And that is…?"

Rey averted her gaze, looking at her boots instead. "Stop… hurting yourself."

She was expecting a brash admonishment, but his response was soft. "Why do you care?"

Rey looked up at him, and their eyes locked.

Truthfully? She didn't really know.

But Kylo Ren wasn't looking for an answer, it seemed. Instead, he turned his back to her and walked to the right hand corner of his cell, curling up in a ball. She spied the dark circles under unfocused eyes. His lids drooped with exhaustion.

"You can't… change me," he murmured before sleep stole over his body, and his eyes closed.

Rey's heart hummed in her chest. She looked upon his sleeping figure and stole into the shadows as the door to his cell opened minutes later. Kylo Ren didn't react—he was out cold. It was Dr. Kalonia. She snuck into his cell like a burglar. Rey thought back to Kylo's comments about cameras. Did the doctor know she was there right now? If Kalonia knew, she didn't make any indication that she was aware of Rey. The doctor was too intent on stealthily applying bacta and bandages to Kylo Ren's bleeding knuckles before padding softly to the door and closing it behind her.

After their confidential agreement, Rey visited Kylo Ren daily to share findings with him about her parents. Most days, she visited in the late morning, interrupting his ritual of lashing out at the walls. And every day, Rey Kenobi told Kylo Ren to _stop_.

A few weeks later, he did.

TBC

 **A/N:** Chapter 10—wooot! Okay, I'm shamelessly channeling Loki and his situation in _Thor 2_ for my Kylo interpretation here. Kind of a sorry/not sorry moment. I mean, they both have the long dark hair, angsty, super powers, born-to-be-bad thing going on. Totally hot. What do you all think? I really want Kylo to pine for what Poe has underneath all of his ambition along with his developing relationship with Rey. The next chapter will have some glorious Poe whumpage (I hope!).

Special thanks and unending virtual cupcakes to **BlackxValentine, Neon Wish Likes Pine Trees,** and **Anna** for reviewing the last chapter. Y'all rock! And thank you ALL for the follows, favorites, and reviews. I really appreciate your feedback!

Annndd to celebrate the 10th Chapter in this Fic That Got Away From Me (and keeps surprising me) I've decided to include the songs that I listened to on a loop while writing it. Consequently, I named each chapter after a string of lyrics from the song I listened to the most at the tiem. Sometimes, the lyrics fit for chapter titles, sometimes not. Hope you enjoy listening!

1\. From Here On Out –The Killers

2\. Out of the Woods –Taylor Swift

3\. Jackie and Wilson –Hozier

4\. From Eden –Hozier

5\. The Death of Queen Jane –Oscar Isaac

6\. Renegades –X Ambassadors

7\. Lonely Town –Brandon Flowers

8\. Under Pressure –Queen & David Bowie

9\. Forever Young- Alphaville

10\. This Heart's On Fire –Wolf Parade

~Ista ^_^


	11. The Grand Facade

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Warning:** Dark thoughts, food avoidance

 **Chapter 11: The Grand Facade**

Unbeknownst to Kylo Ren, Poe Dameron was also living his life through a series of painful but necessary routines. After all, the routine was the only thing that could keep him going each minute, each hour, each day.

They had grounded him.

Poe couldn't fly until his voice came back. _If_ his voice came back. Dr. Kalonia was all optimism and encouraging words, but Poe always knew when someone was lying in between a smile. The fact was, _no one_ knew when his voice would come back, not the doctors or nurses, not Finn, not Rey.

So Dameron woke up each day knowing that the one thing he loved doing more than anything else in the galaxy was off limits to him.

The fact that he couldn't be a pilot anymore would have been bad enough as his wounds slowly healed, the ache in his ribs becoming more of an echo each day. But there was something _else_ wrong with him too; it was something he couldn't quite pin down because he feared it had to do with his _mind._

Kalonia told him his memories of the failed Vera 5 mission would eventually return to him, but Poe still struggled to put the pieces together of all that had occurred on that noxious planet. He saw flashes in his dreams.

A leering General Hux, grasping a knife. A vast ocean of burning… fire? BB-8's shrieks. Finn's jacket covering him. Rey's rushing whispers. And there had been someone else too. A dark haired boy who morphed into a man with soulless eyes and sought to break inside his head.

 _He_ did _break into your head._

Then Poe would always hear the screams. Some belonged to the young, some to the old; some cried out to him to help them. But he couldn't, and the sound of blasters eventually drowned them out.

Dameron woke up gasping for breath, a silent scream tearing his still-sore throat; sweat covered his body, and his head throbbed.

 _How many times had this happened?_

Glancing at the clock by his bedside table would simultaneously comfort and sadden Dameron at the same time. He was up before dawn again (he had been waking up earlier and earlier recently) but at least he wasn't late for work. On the other hand, he was alone in his quarters. BB-8 had been temporarily re-assigned to Finn while the ex-stormtrooper took on Dameron's old duties, and even though Poe got to see the droid at least once a day during meal times, it was still hard to get used to not seeing its shell glow in the darkness of his quarters each dawn, chirping him awake. It had always been so eager to see him every morning, as if it had anticipated his eyes opening with such excitement; no matter how many times Poe woke up, it still astounded the droid.

Poe huffed and rolled over in bed, swapping the pillow out from under his head and cramming it into his face. He was perpetually tired now; it didn't matter how much he slept. And he was seriously beginning to question the purpose of his own work for the Resistance. Yes, he knew he was a good mechanic. But he was a _great_ pilot. Still, the job kept him busy, kept his mind off the dreams that haunted him each night.

Dameron was about to get out of bed when his stomach cramped painfully. A normal hungry stomach would grumble—his practically _howled._

 _Not my fault_ , he wanted to tell it. _Not hungry. Mind over matter, right? I'm the boss of you!_

Five minutes later, Poe staggered out of bed, his limbs stiff from sleep. Dizziness was a constant companion of his now, and as the blood rushed to his head, pounding with each fluttering heartbeat, Dameron placed his hand on the wall to wait it out. When the spell was over, he breathed a sigh of relief and continued with the routine.

After a brief shower, he tugged on an old flight suit still stained with grease from yesterday's work and left his quarters for the mess hall with his computer tablet in hand. Dameron didn't bother looking at himself in the mirror before departing; he had glanced at his visage a few days earlier and was surprised he didn't break the glass. On the other hand, Poe supposed he had looked worse when his friends had first brought him back from Vera 5. But there were still dark circles under his eyes, and his face was thin. _Too thin everywhere,_ he thought. Just the other day, he had carved another notch in his belt to accommodate pants that refused to hug his bony hips.

As Dameron quietly walked through the halls of the Resistance base, he couldn't help but feel uneasy. It hadn't escaped him that the _thing_ that had hurt him was imprisoned somewhere on the compound. But where? Poe pondered the dark lord's whereabouts with a morbid curiosity.

 _Suppose you figure out where they've got him locked up. What then, hot shot? You gonna give him a piece of your mind? Oh, that's right. You already did._

Poe smiled to himself. At least he hadn't lost his sense of humor.

The aroma of fresh porridge and fruit wafting from the mess made his belly churn longingly, but Dameron was having none of it. As soon as he spied the mush, drizzled with honey, a surge of nausea nearly made his knees buckle.

Still, he had to consume _something_ to get through the day. Perhaps he'd eat half a serving.

The pilot managed two spoonfuls of the oaty concoction before getting up from the table, where he sat by himself, and tossed his bowl in the dirty dishes tub. He did so deftly, making sure no one noticed his wastefulness, but he shouldn't have worried; there was hardly anyone up yet on the base. Dameron bowed his head in shame. Rey would have berated him for not eating and throwing away perfectly good grub.

Poe tried to sneak away from the mess hall, his belly gurgling with the meager amount of food he just devoured, but then realized he had left behind his damn computer pad, so he shuffled back to the mess to snatch it up. Dameron muttered under his breath, but all that came out was a raspy wheeze.

 _Can't even curse anymore._

Well, technically, he _could_ , but somehow typing curses into a stupid keyboard didn't really have the same panache.

He carried the data pad under the crook of his elbow and kept his head down on his way to the hangar. It was easier this way, to avoid contact.

 _Just get through the day. Work on those ships. Know your place. You'll get your appetite back sooner or later, and these bad dreams will stop. Just keep working._

It was Poe's incantation, in a way. Anything to keep his mind occupied from panicking when he saw a familiar face, a former colleague, or a member of his squadron. Because they'd always try to stop and talk with him on their way to a mission briefing, or a training exercise, or whatever, and it pained him.

Not just because Dameron felt a stab of jealousy in his heart every time he realized he couldn't fly with them (that breathless joy of weightlessness, stars skipping past); it was also his inability to speak that made him feel inadequate, something to be pitied and treated _gently._ That sad condoling look in their wide eyes—it made Poe want to gag.

When Dameron eventually reached the hangar after a light jog, the small amount of exertion was enough to send the world spinning in circles around him. Poe bent over, propped up on his knees, panting. After a few minutes (it was getting worse) his vision cleared, and Dameron walked to the storage room where mechanics' tools were kept. Two T-70s were already lined up for him to check out, so Poe got started.

Just being near the ships made him feel a bit better, like he was still part of the Resistance. And the X-wings he had scheduled to work on today were so reminiscent of the ones in his own Black Squadron that he felt a glow of warmth to stave off the constant clamminess of his skin.

One had a busted projectile launcher, the other wonky thrusters. Although Dameron was not a trained mechanic, he had picked up enough from his mother and other pilots to know his way around a hyperdrive. The work was challenging and solitary, something he didn't mind.

Chewbacca stopped over around lunch time with a thermos full of soup and the largest wrench Poe had ever seen slung over his shoulder. It was kind of the Wookie to come over and see how he was doing. The pilot proffered a thumbs-up of gratitude but declined the soup. Chewie shrugged and howled back at him as he walked away. Something about him getting kinda skinny. Dameron wasn't sure; his Wookie was a little rusty.

His next visitors were R2-D2 and C-3PO. Poe didn't mind the company, but sometimes the golden droid's constant chattering could get on his nerves. And the pilot had no voice to shoo it along. So he allowed C-3PO to babble on for about fifteen minutes while he worked before it remembered they needed to stop by and see Skywalker. Poe rubbed a greasy hand across his sweaty forehead and waved goodbye absently. But he stopped when he heard an inquisitive trill beneath the ladder where he was perched.

It was R2-D2. The round blue droid had stayed behind. Dameron shrugged his shoulders to indicate what the astromech needed. R2 simply beeped, an assuring string of familiar tones that instantly reminded Poe of his little buddy.

He smiled at the mech, climbing down the ladder to pat it on the head. It cooed with the attention, rocking back and forth on its legs.

"R2, are you coming or not?!" C-3PO called from across the hangar, annoyed.

The blue droid whistled a farewell to Dameron and rolled away, leaving a tiny hole in Poe's heart.

He sighed and kept working.

Dameron labored for hours, until he couldn't remember when he had last checked the time. It was dark outside, trees from the forest swaying in the evening breeze. All of the other mechanics had gone to eat supper and head back to their quarters hours ago. At some point, one of the droids on night patrol shut off the bay lights, enclosing Poe in darkness, and he decided to call it a night. His hands had begun fumbling over the tools in his kit anyway, fingers numb from constant use.

 _What have you eaten today?_

The sounds emanating from his stomach were ferocious, a wild beast. They were the overture to another rush of vertigo that overcame him just as he started descending the ladder of one of the T-70's. Darkness morphed and cut into the corners of his vision. Poe clenched his teeth, gripping the rungs of the ladder tightly so as not to fall. Eventually, the fuzziness covering his sight faded, and he stepped to the ground, his footfalls echoing through the empty hangar.

 _What have you eaten today?_

He skipped the mess hall. Because who was kidding who anymore? He wouldn't be able to keep anything down, not when Poe felt like someone being led through a waking nightmare, where the source was unclear but the consequences prevented him from one of the most basic human functions. It was a crushing weight, a guilt, an inability to change the past—but stemming from what? If only he could remember _exactly_ what happened on Vera 5.

Dameron had never viewed the past as a predictor of his future, but the grating rawness in his throat and the churn of his stomach were constant reminders that he had _failed_. Even if he didn't remember the specifics, Poe knew he had allowed his memories to be unlocked for the Dark Side to manipulate.

When Poe returned to his quarters, exhaustion tugged on his eyelids, begging him to slip underneath the sheets of his bed. But he forced himself to drink half a glass of water, the taste in his mouth stale, the drink unsatisfying. But the liquid filled a portion of the void in his belly, letting Dameron lie down and close his eyes. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the cushioned pillow.

And then the screams began again.

* * *

The word "no" was not in Finn's vocabulary. As far back as he could remember, he had been taught to comply. Compliance was the key to rising in the ranks of the First Order. Stormtroopers were instructed in the art of obedience, and Finn had excelled at following directions, until those directions concerned taking the lives of others.

Finn supposed he shouldn't be surprised that he was having a difficult time saying "no" to General Organa, or Skywalker, or anyone on the Resistance.

 _Yes, I can lead that mission. Yes, I know how to get inside that command center. Yes, I can help you. Yes, I'll do that. Yes, first thing tomorrow. Yes. Yes. Yes._

No wonder his head was whirling and his schedule was so packed. Finn barely had time to sleep six hours a night, let alone eat a quick meal with his friends, which is why he jumped at the chance for lunch with Poe and Rey when the Jakkunian suggested it.

Rey sat beside him at the mess hall table, hunched over and working busily on a computer pad. _Probably more research on her parents._ Notorious for a robust appetite, Rey wolfed down her bowl of stew in a matter of seconds before continuing to work, chiming in to the small group's conversation every few minutes or so. Poe sat across from Finn, withdrawn and looking thinner than just a few days before. In contrast to Rey scarfing down her meal, Poe pushed vegetables around on his plate and pretended to be interested in the meal. Finn made a mental note to talk with the pilot later one-on-one and ask him how he was feeling. If he had time, that is.

Because of Rey's preoccupation with her research and Dameron's lack of speech, Finn found himself blabbing on about all of the new things in his life: piloting techniques he had learned, new worlds he had visited (They eat dessert for breakfast—for breakfast!), new responsibilities he had picked up as First Order expert, an offensive he had planned. The Resistance was gaining numbers with more recruits streaming in by the day after the systematic destruction of the Republic. The galaxy was crying out for justice, and Finn was at the center of it.

Lost in his own exuberance for helping the _good guys_ for once, Finn trailed off, noticing that Rey was still ensconced in her own investigation, and Poe was purposely avoiding eye contact.

"Sorry," he mumbled, taking a bite out of a piece of fruit. "I'm doing it again, aren't I?" Their meal sessions usually ended up like this.

Dameron typed into his computer pad and pushed it across the table because Rey was still preoccupied.

RAMBLING?

"Yeah," Finn said and sighed heavily. "I don't mean to."

Poe waved his hands, indicating that it wasn't a big deal, but the film of exhaustion and pain covering the pilot's eyes indicated that it _was._ Finn mentally upbraided himself. How could he have been so insensitive? Of _course_ he hadn't been thinking about Dameron and the man's feelings. How alone Poe must feel.

Before Finn could start a new topic of conversation, General Organa entered the hall and reminded him about their meeting at 15:00 hours. Half listening to her, Finn noticed Rey let out a gasp. Poe typed something into his computer and gave it to Rey.

"Did you get that, Finn?"

The ex-stormtrooper averted his attention back to the General. "Y-yes, ma'am."

She smiled thinly and nodded, leaving the area.

As Rey began responding to whatever Poe had typed on the computer pad, Finn watched the General walk away, and the words slipped out, something he had been pondering for the past month:

"I wonder where she's keeping him."

And just like that, Rey and Poe both froze. With Rey, it was a subtle shift in body language; she quietly slid her holopad underneath the table, shoulders hunched, noncommittal. With Dameron, any remaining color in his face drained away, his eyes black pools, expression stern.

"You mean Kylo?" Rey asked quietly.

Her response made Finn scoff, eating small bites of his sandwich. "Are you on a first name basis with him?"

Rey's mouth opened in soundless surprise, and Finn's heart sank. He hadn't meant to be so abrasive, but this _was_ Kylo Ren he was talking about—evil fiend supreme. Couldn't they all agree on that?

"I just think it's crazy that he's still on the base with us somewhere. A monster like that should be in a prison on the other side of the galaxy."

This time the scavenger _scowled_ at him, and Finn realized he had crossed a line with his friend. But he didn't care. How could Rey possibly convince him to feel differently about the dark lord?

"He was obviously brainwashed by the First Order, Finn. He's very confused. They manipulated him; Snoke used him for his own selfish gains."

Finn's mind was reeling. "Since when have you ever defended Kylo Ren? Don't you remember what he did to all of us? And it was _amusing_ to him."

A sharp intake of breath from Dameron, and Finn realized that he had gone too far. The last thing he had wanted was to cause either of his friends pain.

 _Way to go, Finn. Messing everything up again._

"I have to be going," said Rey hastily, her lips turned downwards, cheek pressed in as if she was biting it. Her watery eyes flicked to Dameron. "Sorry, Poe. See you later."

Finn's brain told his mouth to stay silent, but his mouth had found new freedom through the Resistance, and ultimately rebelled. "When are you going to tell us where you go so often when you're not training, Rey?"

But she ignored him, racing away in a flash of flowing beige fabric, and Finn pressed his thumbs into his eyes, wishing he could gouge them out. When he lowered his hands, Poe Dameron was staring blankly into space, and a chill ran through the ex-stormtrooper.

 _Perfect._

"Did you catch what just happened?" Finn asked Poe.

His question seemed to wake Dameron up, and he typed into his computer, showing the screen to Finn.

MAYBE YOU SHOULD LISTEN MORE, FLYBOY.

Finn sighed. "As usual, you're right."

Poe nodded, but there was no bravado in his acknowledgement. Finn wanted to ask his friend if he was all right, but his attention was currently focused on Rey. She was keeping something from them, and it wasn't like her to be secretive. Finn was a man who had grown accustomed to being "in the know." He couldn't abide lies. He had been raised on them, after all.

The ex-stormtrooper didn't want to ask the pilot to help him. _Poor guy looks like he's barely keeping it together as it is_. But Finn felt he had to get to the bottom of it, and he was too busy to pursue the truth on his own.

So he asked Poe. "Would you… watch her for me?"

Dameron blinked, jaw twitching. He typed a message out slowly.

YOU WANT ME TO SPY?

"Yes." Finn wiped a hand across his forehead. _Are you really asking him to do this?_

Poe typed more.

ON REY?

Finn cringed. This was all wrong.

"Yes."

Dameron speared a veggie with his fork and watched it drop back onto his plate. More typing.

OK

Before Finn could offer his thanks or talk more with the man, Poe stood up, albeit shakily. Finn nearly reached a hand out to steady the pilot, but Dameron righted himself expertly, scraping his tray clean and walking away.

Finn sat alone. All of a sudden, he felt as if he was sinking into a dark pit. Why did he get the feeling that he had just lost the two people most important to him in the whole world?

* * *

Rey ran to the secret room as a reflex. She ran because she couldn't face Skywalker's calm countenance or Finn's suspicious glare. She ran because the mess hall was always too crowded with peole to the point where she felt claustrophobic, but her quarters were too quiet and dark.

Rey ran and willed herself not to cry. Crying was something she thought she had forgotten how to do years ago. But when she had _found_ it on her computer pad just then, coupled with Finn's accusing words—it was all too much. One of these days she was going to have to tell her friends what she was up to.

 _That's bound to be a fun conversation. Hey, guys, I just wanted to let you know that I've befriended your mortal enemy._

Befriended. Could it be true? Was she becoming friends with one of the most hated and feared men in the galaxy?

 _Who are you running to, Rey?_

It was strange to imagine, but she supposed it was true. She ran to this disturbed being who was like a reflection of herself in so many ways, rather than broadcasting the truth to Finn.

The secret room provided a soothing familiarity that instantly calmed Rey's frayed nerves. She clutched the holopad to her stomach, still sick from Finn's words, sliding onto a bench in front of the enclosure. Kylo Ren was leaning against the right hand wall, lackadaisical, munching on something loud and crunchy while leafing through a gigantic book on the floor. He was always eating something—another trait they shared, being perpetually hungry. Without being aware she was doing it, Rey checked the state of the see-through wall. No blood stains. Good sign. She sensed a lightened atmosphere in the room as well. It wasn't as stifling as it used to be, not as oppressive.

 _He's changing. He must be._

"Did I ever tell you that ancient Jedi history is _boring_?" Kylo mumbled. His speech had improved over the past few weeks, less jumbled. His body was slowly adapting to the effects of the neural inhibitors. And for some reason, that made Rey incredibly sad.

"Yeah," she said.

Kylo continued flipping through the text. "I mean, it's _really_ dull. I would much prefer reading sanitation manuals."

Rey remained silent, thinking about what she had found and what Finn had said. This was all backwards. She should have been sharing the information with her friends over lunch instead of in this cell with a madman.

"Are you… all right?"

The scavenger raised her head to find Kylo Ren staring at her with eyes that sought to read her mind, but she didn't feel threatened by them the way she had on Takodana. Not anymore. And there was something else in his face—a softness she had never noticed before.

 _Don't get sucked in, Rey. It's all a trick to get you on his side._

"Yeah," she repeated, because her mouth couldn't form any other coherent syllables, tearing her eyes away from his.

They spent a few more minutes in silence. Rey could hear the rustle of paper.

"Dearest Mother has started calling me Ben."

The comment was so unexpected that Rey burst out laughing, but her chuckles abruptly stopped when Kylo gave her a withering look.

"I'm so glad you find that funny."

No one could deadpan like him, and it made Rey certain that she had made the right choice to see him.

 _Did Kylo Ren just cheer you up?_

"Sorry," she said through a grin. "Does it bother you that much? I would think that would be the least of your worries."

He shrugged, lips pursed in an outright pout.

Rey stood up. "Well, what do _you_ prefer to be called?"

The glare he shot back at her was almost enough to send her into another fit of giggles, but she controlled herself.

His response was surprising in that it was so quiet, so devoid of feeling. "What does it matter anymore?"

Rey stepped closer, placing her hand on the glass. "Oh, c'mon, _Ben."_

It wasn't until he met her gaze that her smile grew larger, more teasing, and she laughed again.

Kylo Ren groaned and stood up, wobbly until he gained his footing, and then began to pace the cell, one of his favorite pastimes. Rey watched him for a few moments before he turned around and faced her.

"So if I am to be Ben Solo now… Does that mean I can't wear black anymore?"

Rey flicked the glass with her finger and bowed her head again, turning her attention to the holopad still in her grasp.

"What happened?" Kylo's voice was soft, sincere.

"Oh, nothing," Rey said through a sigh. "Finn…" But she stopped there; Rey had made a promise to herself that she would never speak of her friends to Kylo. She couldn't mention anything that he could potentially use against them.

"What did the _traitor_ do now?" Old venom leaked through his words.

"I wanted to tell him what I found, but he was too busy bad-mouthing _you_."

Ren said, "Typical. What did you find?"

Rey held up her holopad and flicked it on.

"A picture of my parents."

A three dimensional, pixilated projection popped out of the data pad, showing a man and a woman, smiling. The woman was an older version of Rey, same face and smile. But the intensity of her father's brown eyes more closely matched hers. He gazed into the camera, as if staring directly at her. Memories flooded through her consciousness, snatches from her childhood on Jakku. Her father tossed her in the air while her mother sang clearly and sweetly to her.

 _My mother could sing._

Kylo Ren turned into Ben Solo in Rey's mind when he placed his own hand on the clear wall separating them, as if trying to get a better look at her family. They shared the moment together solemnly, and Rey felt twin tears slip down her cheeks.

 _I will find out what happened to you,_ she promised the images of her parents.

The moment was beautiful until the General's son ruined it, of course.

"You have your mother's teeth."

Rey switched the data pad off, and the image of her parents vanished.

"Thanks, Ben."

TBC

 **A/N:** I admit this chapter is a bit slow, but there's much more angst and action to come. Aaaand I know I promised Poe whump soon, so that's gonna be in the next chapter too! I've never written a story so spontaneously before (without a detailed outline), so it's been a huge experiment for me to see what works, what doesn't, and to delve into the minds of these characters. Please let me know what you think—reviews always make me smile and inspire me. You are all awesome!

~Ista ^_^


	12. If Our Paths Never Cross

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 12: If Our Paths Never Cross**

 **Warning:** Food avoidance, dark thoughts

Poe Dameron stood outside an unmarked door and waited. It was approximately 16:00, and he had just gotten off his shift in the hangar. Project wise, his work was going well. The two T-70s he had lovingly cared for were back to stellar condition. The ex-pilot had just proved some of his joking colleagues wrong and won some bets in the process: a silent Poe Dameron could still work magic with an X-Wing.

On the flip side, he felt like a brittle stalk that could be blown over at the slightest gust of wind; two days ago, his stomach had stopped growling.

 _When was the last time you ate?_

His knees knocked together, and his hands shook, so Poe placed his arms on the door in front of him, drawing his head closer, and listened.

Behind the door, he heard muffled voices, but he could not pick up the words. A woman's voice, and a man's.

It had to be Rey. He had followed her to this entrance. Dameron sighed and leaned his forehead against the door, another surge of dizziness threatening to jeopardize this mission.

It had felt strange at first to watch her, but Finn was right. Rey had been holding something back for too long. Finn cared for Rey in a way that Dameron didn't, but he also felt protective of her, like a big brother. Being an only child, Poe had always wanted a sister. Dameron thought back to the days Rey spent by his side in the medical bay, talking to him, laughing at her own corny jokes. Poe didn't want her to get hurt from her own secrets.

Dameron was sure Rey could sense him in the mornings, on his breaks, and in the evenings, when he typically followed her, even though he made sure to keep his distance. Not being able to speak had given him a fresh pair of ears, an appreciation for sound he'd never had before. Footsteps were his specialty.

He listened at the proverbial keyhole, his tired muscles surprisingly alert, ready to spring into action. Dameron could ignore his hunger a little longer. If he made a breakthrough tonight, maybe he would allow himself a forkful of dinner.

But he doubted that would stop the screams.

And so Poe waited until precisely the moment when the door swished open, red light turning green. In one swift motion, Dameron flattened himself against the wall and slid a minuscule metal file across its threshold.

His heart hammered in his chest as Rey swept past him.

 _Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound. Don't breathe._

The door closed after her, jamming on the piece of metal.

Before taking a breath, Dameron slid expertly through the small gap in the door and removed the metal file. He hid behind the door inside the secret room just as Rey's head turned inquisitively, and the door swooshed shut.

Poe felt lightheaded again, bright lights flashing in his skull.

 _Keep it together. She's not coming back._

After a minute, the shakiness subsided, but Poe still used the wall to hold himself upright and to stop his limbs from trembling.

 _What_ is _this place?_

He had assumed that it was one of Skywalker's private training rooms, some kind of Jedi meditation center. Frankly, a Phrenbi arena would have been less shocking than what Dameron ultimately discovered.

Inside the room was another room, brightly lit. And inside _that_ room was a man.

It was _him._

"Rey—did you forget something?"

Kylo Ren sat on the floor with his back to Poe, typing frantically on a data pad, hunched over. A few feet away from him stood a basic white cot.

Dameron's feet moved toward the cell without him even aware of what he was doing. Poe was transfixed, lost in a stupor, and frozen to his core. If his heart had stopped beating, he wouldn't have noticed, and it wouldn't have mattered.

"I think I'm really close to finding them. It all has to do with the smugglers' identities, and I'm closing in on that too…"

All of a sudden, Poe was facing this man inside his own mind in a make-believe clearing back on Yavin 4.

"Rey…?"

Sluggishly, as if it took some effort, Ren turned around.

The two men locked eyes.

In his head, Poe heard the screams again. Strange—he had only ever heard them when he was asleep.

Permeating fear created a shroud over his vision, freezing his limbs. Poe had never known terror like this before—coming face to face with the man whose voice he heard in his nightmares.

Dameron felt his mind go blank, a shift in consciousness, and then fold in on itself.

 _Run away. Far away._

* * *

Ben Solo thought he was looking upon a ghost, and he gawked at the sight of the pilot so near his cell. Wasn't this man dead? And if he wasn't, Poe Dameron could've easily fooled him. His face was gaunt, hollow eye sockets, half-lidded eyes. His face was pale, a remnant of a scar running along his left cheekbone. But it was the rest of Dameron's body that shocked Ben the most. Or, actually, the _absence_ of his body. The truth was he looked so thin to be nearly two-dimensional. His limbs jutted out at odd angles, and Solo could almost see the vertebrae bones sticking out through the back of the grey jumpsuit he wore.

Once he composed himself, the words slipped out, accusatory and blunt.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

The part of the imprisoned man who was learning how to become Ben Solo again—who _wanted_ to be Ben Solo again—railed against the remnants of Kylo Ren. But the perpetual fogginess of his mind made the transition difficult. It seemed to be articulate at all took great effort, and his most antagonistic personality traits prevailed.

It was an easy out. It was easier to act the part of the villain than face this broken shell of a man who had once been his closest friend.

 _You had so few friends as a child. He was the only one who treated you with any kindness._

How could Ben possibly tell this man that he secretly longed to be like him in every way? Poe Dameron, the hotshot pilot. Poe Dameron, the leader, the rebel, the idealistic man who once helped a headstrong boy climb down a tree when he was too scared to move.

But the part of Ben that was finding freedom was pressed down by shame and guilt. Kylo Ren found a foothold in Ben Solo's confusion.

"Afraid to speak, Poe?"

Rey had never mentioned her friend. She didn't talk much about the base at all, aside from bringing up Finn's name on one occasion.

Dameron just stared at him, unblinking, seemingly as shocked as he was.

"Nice of you to visit me. It gets so dull here sometimes…"

Kylo stepped forward, taunting, and held out a hand that he forced to keep steady. The most malevolent grin he could muster flashed across his face.

"Shall I reach into your mind again? I believe last time, I was about to burn _it_ down."

Poe looked stricken, his limbs jerking forward, and he raced away, the door closing behind him.

Kylo vanished as quickly as his hurtful words were spoken. In the dark lord's place, Ben Solo sank to his knees, deflated, and slammed his fist into the clear wall until his knuckles bled.

* * *

It had been raining when he learned of his mother's death.

Poe Dameron stood in the rain several feet from the base. Palms outstretched, he raised his head and closed his eyes to meet the thick droplets falling from the heavens. It was a downpour, and he was soaked in a matter of minutes.

He shook, but it wasn't because of the coldness of the precipitation and the way it dripped down his face, covering his jumpsuit and pressing it into his skin.

Dameron trembled from his meeting with the man who had once been a pale dark-haired boy, his companion so many years ago. When their eyes connected, it was as if the dark lord was looking into his soul.

 _Because he's already seen it. He knows all about you. He knows about all the horrible things you've done. He knows about Jakku…_

Poe was past the point of tears, his heart thrumming to the point that individual beats could not be marked. He was a man caught in the throes of horror, and he didn't know how to escape it.

Through the veil of water cascading from the sky, Dameron saw the thicket of trees ahead, growing into a dense jungle after a few meters.

In that moment, Poe thought about running. He could run and run and never look back. He could run away from Kylo Ren and his lack of a voice and lack of commanding and piloting. Poe could run until his legs gave out and he was lost in the jungle forever and ever…

One foot in front of the other, like a walking corpse, Poe ambled stiffly towards the gloomy mess of jungle. The rain didn't bother him anymore; it was a necessary numbing.

His boots squelched through the mud and grass, and Dameron was almost at the line between the trees and the field when a recognizable beep stopped him cold.

Poe halted and looked beneath him, his vision obscured by the rivulets of water running down his face. He almost didn't believe what he saw, which only proved how far out of touch he had become over the past few weeks. Of _course_ BB-8 would be there.

His little buddy was chittering, rocking back and forth in the rain, its high-pitched cries piercing through the fog in Dameron's brain, stabbing deeply into the part of his heart that was as pure as the day he had first met his astromech friend. Poe instantly kneeled to meet BB-8, and he pushed aside the vertigo that tilted his vision strangely with the movement.

How Dameron wanted to soothe it, to assure BB-8 that he was all right, that there was a perfectly good reason why he had decided to go for a walk in the rain. Scratch that: _torrential downpour._ But all he could do was stroke the top of its head and shake his own tiredly.

 _To tell you the truth, BB. I have no idea what I'm doing anymore. Nothing makes sense._

As if the droid could read his mind, BB-8 trilled a firm command to go back inside. Now.

And Poe had to obey. What else could he do?

He rose slowly. Unable to control the dizziness any longer, it threatened to bring him back to his knees again, but Dameron persevered. _Just put one step in front of the other. One step in front of the other._

Again, sensing that something was wrong with its human counterpart, BB-8 beeped encouragingly, trundling along behind him, stopping to hold Poe steady whenever he felt he might fall backwards. And the support helped; together, the duo trudged back to the base and all the way to Poe's quarters.

BB-8 was all worry and frantic messages, one right after another. Dameron was usually quick at understanding the droid, but his shattered nerves and cloudy brain were having a difficult time piecing together all the information. Instead, the ex-pilot just heard bits and pieces. Something about getting warm, eating supper. Painfully practical and therefore not concerning to Poe. He was still haunted by an hour ago and the revelation of the secret room's occupant.

Dameron didn't mean to ignore the droid's protests, but he silently shuffled into his refresher, intending to remove the wet clothes that stuck to his skin, cold and clammy, but he never got that far.

The moment Poe saw his cadaverous face in the mirror was when he remembered that he should have eaten something that day.

 _Guess I shouldn't have skipped breakfast for spying._

It was the last thought that passed through Dameron's mind before his image in the glass distorted into the angular face of Kylo Ren, gazing at him intensely.

And the screams started.

Poe didn't hear BB-8's shrieks as his vision changed, like watching a story through a holovid. Cut to close-up. Fade to black.

* * *

Rey knew something was wrong.

She knew something was off since the moment she left Ben. He had seemed in good spirits. They were getting closer to unlocking the key: finding the names of those smugglers her parents chased after so many years ago. It was maddening to know that Master Skywalker probably had the answer, but Rey wasn't seeing much of the Jedi anymore. He was wrapped up (just like Finn was) in the work of the Resistance, gathering an army for a new offensive.

Rey went to meet Finn for supper in the mess hall. Poe was going to join them. It was so hard finding time to be together. And she had almost forgiven Finn for his insensitive comments about Solo. How could he have known what she was up to? The scavenger was still guilty for her involvement with Snoke's apprentice. But he was getting better—wasn't he? No longer the hateful, angry, mess of a man she had snuck away to see.

Fleetingly, she wondered when General Organa was going to say something to her about Rey visiting her son. Because, as Ben had never been remiss in mentioning, there were security cameras throughout his cell.

 _Worry about that talk when the time comes. Focus on Finn now._

But Rey felt fidgety the moment she caught the ex-stormtrooper's bright smile, sitting by himself at an empty table. Rey picked up a salad and sat across from him, trying to keep her pessimistic feelings at bay. Something was up. She just couldn't put her finger on _what._

"Tough day?" Finn queried, sipping at his drink. Worry spouted from his eyes, which only made Rey bite her lip. It was still difficult for Rey to break her habit of smalltalk during mealtime. She had been so used to eating by herself for so many years.

"No, it's just…" Rey couldn't find words to describe her emotions, so she simply shrugged her shoulders, managing a quick smile that vanished instantly. She poked at her salad with a fork.

Finn nodded. "How is your research going?"

She was grateful for his question, and she longed to tell her friend everything, but Rey was afraid that at some point she would let slip just who her research partner was, and that would ruin everything. She would lose Finn's trust, and Poe's, and…

"Where's Poe?" she asked suddenly, freezing.

Finn turned around, scanning the mess hall. It was gradually becoming crowded as more workers finished their evening shifts. Yet, despite the many faces in the room, Dameron's was not among them.

"Dunno," Finn said. "Maybe he forgot."

"No," Rey said, and she closed her eyes as a thick blanket of despair overwhelmed her senses. Before she could even rationalize where the feelings came from, she knew it was Dameron. She had never known a kind of connection with another human being before, besides Finn, and perhaps now Ben. But the days she had spent with Poe in the hospital, and the window the Force had shown her into his mind (the fire, the tree, the cave) must have been enough to connect them somehow.

"What's wrong?" she heard Finn say.

Rey felt cold all over, a chill in her heart and a spreading unease.

She shot out of her seat, hand dropping her fork, and it clattered to the floor.

"Rey—" Finn began.

"Poe's in trouble," she said, eyes still closed in concentration. She didn't want to delve further into the emotions that bubbled up within her consciousness, but she knew that they would help her locate the pilot.

Thankfully, she didn't need to. At that moment, BB-8 came streaking through the mess hall, urgent beeps connoting panic and emergency. It was Poe. They would have to hurry.

Finn was on his feet in an instant. "Show us."

Resistance recruits and colleagues shuffled quickly out of their way as the Commander and the Jedi hurried from the mess, trailing the small white and orange astromech.

It was like running through a labyrinth in a nightmare. The walls themselves seemed to breathe in and out, mirroring Rey's frantic inhalations as the trio raced past door after door in the living areas section of the base. The thought was unspoken, but both Rey and Finn knew the other was thinking it:

 _We don't even know where he lives._

Because while Rey had ventured to Finn's quarters on a few occasions, and Finn vice versa, neither of them had reached out to Poe, had gone to check on him.

 _He's been looking so thin lately_ , thought Rey. _You knew something wasn't right, but you never stopped to ask him…_

Rey chided herself as she stalked down the corridor. She had been too consumed in her own selfish pursuits _(don't forget befriending a mass murderer)_ to even notice that Dameron might be struggling. First his voice had been taken away, then his piloting gig…

After what seemed like forever, BB-8 finally led them to a generic door. It was unlocked, and Finn rushed inside first, calling Poe's name. There was a pinched look on his face, an expression Rey had seen when she insisted Chewbacca take him back to the _Falcon_ on Vera 5.

 _He feels helpless._

Rey braced herself for what they would find, but it didn't stop the gasp escaping her lips when she saw him.

Poe Dameron lay on his side, a trickle of bright blood running from his left temple to the tiled floor. His clothes were damp—sticking to his skin, and he appeared pale and cold.

Everything happened so fast. BB-8 beeped sporadically, inbetween Finn's shouts. The ex-stormtrooper was shaking his friend roughly, and Rey wanted to tell him to stop, but she was at a loss for words.

How could this happen?

 _You know the answer to that,_ she thought grimly. _This is the First Order's doing._

Poe still hadn't come to terms with the ordeal on Vera 5.

Finn kept shaking Poe, but the man didn't wake up. And then Finn gently bundled Poe in his arms, a jumble of too-thin limbs, and he ran out of the room, BB-8 following along at a zippy pace.

Rey was left alone. Panic still hung in the air, but eventually her pulse evened out, and she began to walk around Dameron's quarters. She noticed the lack of decorations and pictures. Even in her short time on D'Qar, she had managed to fill her room with clippings and schematics. Never mind that the majority of pictures were related to her parents' whereabouts. At least it gave the stark space some personality. But in Dameron's room, there were no adornments, save a picture near his bedside table. A lovely woman with dark brown hair—she looked to be about the same age as Poe. It took Rey a moment to realize that this was the same woman from Dameron's memories, his mother.

Rey instantly looked away, remembering where she was, as if she was committing an invasion of privacy on par with delving into someone's mind. So she resigned to leave immediately, but first she went to Poe's closet and pulled out the jacket she knew had to be there. Taking it off the hanger, she folded it over one arm and left Dameron's quarters soundlessly.

She hugged the smooth fabric of the jacket close to her as she walked to the medical bay, and Rey forced herself to think positively: Poe would need it when he woke up.

* * *

Finn didn't sleep that night.

Dr. Kalonia's report kept ringing through his head.

 _Extreme dehydration, weight loss, fatigue. Symptoms of stress, shock. Trauma._

Tonight, Finn faced the facts: One of his best friends was slowly killing himself. Had been trying for a while. And tonight, Poe had almost succeeded.

At once, the conflict inside the ex-stormtrooper began.

 _You should have paid more attention to him._

 _I was busy. I_ am _busy. This new post—it's so demanding._

 _This was going on right under your nose. Poe saved your life. He saved your_ soul _. Is this how you repay him?_

Finn could only sit and watch as the medical staff went to work on Dameron, stitching up the cut on his forehead, hooking him up to monitors, to feeding tubes. BB-8 sent out frequent high-pitched moans beside its old X-Wing companion until Finn forced it gently to re-charge because it was running out of energy.

When the doctors were finished, Finn moved to sit next to his friend. Dameron was so pale, stripped of his moist clothes, wrapped in a white gown. Poe looked at peace for the first time since Vera 5.

In contrast, Finn was falling apart.

He sat with his head in his hands, wondering how he could have let this happen, knowing he would never forgive himself.

Succumbing to these dark thoughts was easy. The guilt had always been with Finn, slowly building up over the past few weeks. Finn was becoming someone he didn't want to be in the midst of the Resistance… Someone who forgot his friends with the first promotion he received.

"Hey."

Rey's light touch on his hand. It was warm, and Finn latched onto it. When he did so, Rey didn't pull away. Rather, her other hand cupped his chin, and Finn gazed into her soft, brown, sympathetic eyes.

It was then Finn realized that he loved her.

Strange, how _not_ a big deal it was. Like a light switching on. But Finn knew this illumination was nothing new; his affection for Rey had been there all along.

Her touch soothed him, probably some type of Jedi relaxation technique. Probably. But she made it real. She made it wonderful. And that's when Finn saw the jacket Rey had brought him. He nodded to her numbly, took the jacket, and draped it over Poe's prostrate form.

Together the group formed a perfect triangle as Finn and Rey reached out to touch Poe's arm, simultaneously holding one another's hand. It was solid, unyielding, and comforting.

"Is he going to be all right?" Rey whispered.

Finn couldn't answer; the future was too uncertain.

"Will any of us be all right?"

She squeezed his hand, and Finn squeezed back. All they could do was wait until morning.

TBC


	13. Put Your Wings On Me

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 13: Put Your Wings On Me**

Poe was getting really tired of waking up and not knowing where he was, and not remembering where he had previously been.

He squinted through eyes that refused to fully open, through sunlight streaming around him. The world was a wash of white, and his eyes stung like they had soap in them. His mouth was dry, and his left temple pounded with each progressively faster heartbeat.

Aside from that, Poe felt pretty good. It was quiet, and his bed was soft. Had he not heard the alarm clock? He almost chuckled at the thought: _Well, the General_ did _insist that I take a mental health day…_

Then Dameron's bleary eyes focused on the two figures sitting side by side on his left.

Finn and Rey were hunched over. Finn's bloodshot eyes stared into space. The lines underneath his eyes were telltale, but Rey's eyes were closed in meditation or prayer.

And Poe realized he was lying in the med bay. Again.

 _You've made a mess of yourself, Dameron._

He tried to surreptitiously slide from beneath the covers and escape right under their noses, but even if Poe's coordination had been at an all-time high (which it definitely _wasn't_ ), he didn't notice the tubes connected to his arms that tethered him to the nearby life vitals machine. And when Poe moved, the machine moved too. With a rattle that could have awakened the entire base.

 _Oh, hell._

Rey's eyes flashed open, and Finn practically jumped out of his chair, leaning forward.

"It's okay, Poe… Calm down, calm down."

Because Dameron couldn't stop moving, fiddling with the tubes, clawing free of the blankets that covered him, his jacket (unnoticed until that moment) dropping heavily to the floor. Poe cried out soundlessly, tearing at his own throat because it had failed him yet again, and just when he had wanted to get _away_ and speak freely, uninhibited, he couldn't.

Dameron felt both Finn and Rey's firm arms pressing against his torso, and he relented at last, wishing there was some cave he could hide in and run away from everything. His face burned with shame.

It all came rushing back in reverse: the mirror, the rain, Kylo Ren's cell. And then, older memories slipped back, as if his current emotional state had opened the floodgate on his subconscious. The events of Vera 5 rang out, crystal clear. Hux, the knife, the blood, the lake, Kylo Ren worming his way into his mind.

"You're going to hurt yourself," came Rey's calm voice, her head above his.

"Poe, please, listen. Stop." Finn's voice echoed through the sudden screaming voices accosting Dameron's senses. He clamped hands over his ears.

 _Make it stop, make it stop,_ he mouthed.

"He's trying to tell us something!" Rey muttered and grabbed for her pack, pulling a computer pad out of it. Poe settled his movement when Rey handed it to him, but a spike of anger made him raise it up, as if to smash it on the ground.

"No!" Finn cried.

And then the screaming stopped.

Poe's breaths heaved in and out, and his eyes flicked from the pad in his hand to Rey biting her lip to Finn's concerned eyes. Suddenly, he saw himself as if he was someone else, and the sight of his own emaciated frame and wild eyes frightened him. Dameron shuddered, a trembling that went through his entire body.

He slowly lowered the computer pad, his breathing not as frantic as before.

In this way, Poe saw a path back to himself.

There was a collective sigh as Dameron felt the excess energy he accumulated from his fear and shame and anger fall away, and he was sinking backwards…

Finn caught him easily, grabbing Poe's shoulders and placing two pillows behind the pilot to prop him up. Dameron's eyelids fluttered shut, then open.

"Breathe," Rey whispered. "Just breathe."

So that's what he did.

Finn immediately fetched a glass of water, and Dameron sipped from it slowly. The feeling of faintness passed as the cool water slid down his throat. Poe paused when he caught Rey grasp Finn's wrist inadvertently and found himself smiling.

 _Atta kid._

The ex-stormtrooper ran a nervous hand through his hair, his focus still on Dameron, the veins practically popping in his neck.

"What?!" he snapped at the pilot, like a reflex, when he noticed the change of his facial expression.

Rey elbowed Finn in the ribs, which only made Poe's grin widen.

"It's just a _question_ ," Finn hissed at Rey, turning his attention back to Dameron, pointing his finger at the pilot accusingly. "This is the first time I've seen you smile in… in weeks." Finn stopped because his voice cracked, and he had to wipe something out of his eyes. "And you just scared the bantha fodder out of me."

Poe laughed, short puffs and wheezes that only caused Rey to start giggling, a release of nerves. Finn joined in, bringing Rey's fingers up to his lips, and Dameron's two friends stopped, finally realizing why Poe had been grinning. Their hands dropped away from each other's, not able to look at the other directly.

Poe shook his head. _If this scene gets any sweeter, my teeth are going to start rotting._

To avoid further embarrassment of his friends, Poe decided to turn his attention to the computer pad. His fingers were still stiff and shaking from weakness, but he managed to type out the name of the one being who was missing from this idyllic moment:

BB-8?

Rey glanced at his message. "It's charging. It was almost totally drained last night… Running on back-up power."

The reality that his companion had almost run out of energy because of his own actions caused Dameron to nod his head and look away, eyes downcast.

Finn put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "BB-8 is fine. What do you remember?"

Poe inhaled slowly, his mind flashing through a few dozen memories, all of them piercingly clear.

EVERYTHING.

"You mean…" Finn fumbled with the words when he saw the computer pad, not comprehending.

"He means…" Rey caught Poe's gaze, and her jaw sagging in awe. "Everything."

Finn nodded, as if it was inevitable, maybe even a good thing. Dameron was starting to think that maybe it was, even though it left him with a hell of a lot more to ponder.

The ex-stormtrooper leaned in closer. "So what happened?"

Dameron looked at Finn carefully. His friend must have known what was about to happen, what Poe was going to reveal, because something shattered in his eyes. Finn's head bowed low.

"Go ahead. Tell her."

"Tell me what?" Rey asked. And Poe was sure she could sense the growing tension between the three where, seconds before, there had been tranquility.

 _Like the picnic,_ Poe thought. _Well, here goes. It was nice while it lasted._

Dameron wasn't much of a typist, and he still loathed the computer pad, even though he had resisted the temptation to smash it into a thousand pieces. So he kept his message succinct. Then he handed it over to Finn and Rey, their heads coming together to read it.

FINN TOLD ME TO WATCH YOU. FIND OUT WHAT YOU WERE DOING. I FOLLOWED YOU TO WHERE THEY KEEP KYLO REN. I KNOW YOU ARE WORKING WITH HIM TO FIND YOUR PARENTS. HE TAUNTED ME AND I LEFT. COLLAPSED.

The previous harmony of the trio broke like fingers snapping, and Rey jerked back. Like she had been burned.

"I don't understand…" she murmured.

Dameron's heart sank at her reaction, but he knew it was for the best. Subterfuge was never a viable option between friends.

Finn reached out a hand for Rey's shoulder, but she jerked away.

"You don't trust me?"

Finn was impassive. "I'm not the one collaborating with the enemy."

"He's not the enemy," Rey said, seething. She stood up, towering over them, her fists clenched at her sides, and Dameron felt the energy crackle off her. "He's trying to find his way back to his old life. He needs to uncover my family's whereabouts as much as I do at this point…"

Poe expected Finn to relent, but the ex-stormtrooper's eyes held fire. "So why couldn't you tell us what you were doing? Why did you have to keep it secret?"

Rey shot back, "What do _you_ think, Finn? Because I anticipated your reaction. Because you can't forgive him for what he did to you… to all of us."

"And that's crazy to you?"

The Jakkunian glared daggers at him. "What's _crazy_ to me is that you can't see Ben for anyone more than a monster behind a mask. And, even worse, you used Poe to get to the truth behind my back instead of just _asking me."_

"Who was the one hiding the truth in the first place?" Finn growled.

Dameron reached out in opposite directions to prevent the escalation, but he supposed it was unavoidable.

Rey's voice lowered in volume until it became a deadly whisper. "I admit, I made a mistake. But _you_ put Poe in danger. And maybe he doesn't hold you responsible for that. But _I_ do."

With that, Rey hurried off.

Finn was speechless, mouth hanging open. Dameron wanted to impress upon his friend that he _didn't_ blame him for what happened—that it was his own weakness and fear that caused his collapse, an aversion to food. But how could he possibly sum that up in a few sentences? It was one of those moments where written words seemed so empty, so pointless. Even so, Poe managed to type half a sentence.

NOT YOUR FAULT

Finn smiled, but there was no joy in it.

"No, Rey's right. I should never have asked you to spy on her."

SHE'LL FORGIVE YOU

Finn sighed and shook his head, exhaustion hanging like a cloud over him. Dameron didn't think he had ever seen his friend so low before. "I don't know. I think I might have lost her forever…"

Then, as if to hide the emotions beginning to show on his face, Finn stood up and ambled to a tray sitting on a nearby table. He brought the tray over and Poe saw that it held a small cup of porridge.

"You eat half of it now, half of it later." It wasn't a question.

Dameron complied. He felt no need to lie to himself further. The mush was satisfying, creamy and rich, but the process of eating was exhausting, and he felt his eyelids begin to droop almost immediately after.

Finn took the eating utensil and bowl from his lap. "You're going to get better. I'm going to need all the help I can get protecting Rey from that psycho."

Poe wanted to respond, but he was asleep before his fingers began to type.

* * *

Rey was livid. At Finn, at Ben, but most of all, herself. If it hadn't been for her liaison with Han Solo's murderer, Dameron would never have been pushed past his breaking point. His collapse was her doing.

But she had help.

As Rey mentally unlocked the door to Ben's cell and stalked inside, she couldn't help but admit that Finn had been correct. She had opened herself up to an evil being, had felt tenderness towards him, had even _bargained_ with him. For what? For Poe to be hurt?

Finn wasn't entirely empty of blame either; it had been his doing to have Poe spy on her. But surely he could never have predicted what would happen. How could he have known it would harm Dameron?

 _Something's different with Finn._

Rey had sensed the change the night before. She had been too swept up in her own worry for Poe at the time to notice, but they had clasped hands, had held onto each other for hours. The memory made her face hot, but she pushed the feeling aside. Yes, she would forgive Finn in time. Ben Solo was another story…

It was late morning, and, as usual, he was awake. But Organa's son wasn't in his usual corner, sprawled out and munching on breakfast, tapping way on a computer pad or thumbing through an ancient text. He didn't swivel around with a pout on his face and an update about his night's research (or his latest nightmare). Instead, Ben Solo was sitting on his cot with his back to her, and he wasn't moving at all.

Rey cleared her throat, and she was surprised when he actually jumped out of his seat at the sound. It would have been mildly comical if it wasn't for the fact that Rey was furious with him.

Ben swiveled around to face her directly. It was the morning, after all, and the neural inhibitors were probably _just_ entering his system, increasing his lethargy. But he perked up a bit when he saw her, sliding his hands underneath his knees and sitting on them. She sensed a great deal of conflict inside him, more than usual.

 _He's worried about something._

And Rey knew exactly what it was.

"What did you say to him?" she snapped.

Ben rocked back and forth, a slow smile creeping its way across his features. "Well, hello to you too."

Rey stepped closer, inches away from the barrier to his cell. Her voice was sharp. "Don't avoid my question. What happened?"

"You never told me he was alive," Ben said loudly, whining. "I didn't realize _anyone_ could just waltz in here."

"What. Did. You. Do?"

"Nothing!" he spat. "Just some friendly banter."

"I saw what you did inside his mind!" Rey yelled. "I was there, Ben. I _know_ how you tried to _break_ him."

Solo looked away, throat working, eyes widening. "You were the girl…"

The Jakkunian saw the reflection of the memory in his face, the fire ablaze.

"This was a mistake," Rey thought out loud. "This entire arrangement has gone too far. Goodbye."

She turned to walk away, but his words stopped her.

"How is Dameron?"

Rey was caught by the candidness of his question. Again, she was overcome by the tremendous internal conflict of this man. She felt him barter with himself, back and forth, as if there were two people inside him. And if it was exhausting for Rey to simply process these feelings, how must it be for Ben Solo to generate them? One of the side effects of the neural inhibitors was that he was as easy to read as an open book; his mind was completely unlocked . Or was it?

 _He agreed to help you for one purpose only. He's charming you, Rey. He's been courting you all along. Just_ who _opened up to_ whom? _You were the one who wanted him to change. And you've turned a blind eye to_ what _he really is in the hopes that one day he could be what he_ isn't _. What he'll never be._

Good and Bad. Light and Dark. Was everything in the universe destined to exist in one plane or the other?

Ben was close to the clear wall now, hands behind his back, coy.

"Did Poe cry out for his dead mother and his pathetic droid friend and all the people he saw burned to death on Jakku? Did he tell you about his doubts and fears and how I helped him uncover them?"

"Quiet!" Rey hissed, suddenly sick to her stomach. How wrong she had been about this man. Redemption was lost on him.

Ben's voice rose with delight, his eyes hovering above his head, as if looking back at a fond memory. "Did he tell you about the cave in his mind, the one we all possess, and how I almost led him past its entrance? Inside the cave awaits his mask. Just like mine, and not like mine. Everyone has a cave with their own mask inside it. There's one for Dameron. One for Finn. And there's a mask for you too, Rey."

Rey could feel tendrils of nausea and fear running up and down her spine as Ben revealed a bloody hand from behind his back, raising it in the air, palm outstretched and fingers splayed. Simultaneously, an invisible force covered her face, cold and menacing. It stole her breath away.

An involuntary response, the Jedi in training pushed back. Her right arm surged forward, stopping at the cell wall, and Ben Solo was thrust upwards and flung at lightning speed, pinned to the back wall and suspended in the air.

He breathed heavily, bloody hands quivering to break free, but Rey would not give him the luxury. She was too powerful, and Ben was too weak to resist.

Rey kept her hand in the air, clenching it into a fist. All she could feel was hatred, surging like before, when they were near the acid lake on Vera 5.

Ben chuckled, a hollow laugh. "The Jedi path is wasted on you, Kenobi. You were always meant to follow me."

She paused, checking her own run-away emotions when she focused on Ben Solo's torn knuckles. The energy that pulsed through her gradually shifted, her anger fading away. How could she be angry with this sad broken man who was so confused that he continued to lash out at himself?

"I wouldn't follow you to a Junior Dejarik Club."

With a wave of her hand, Ben slid down the wall, collapsing in a crumpled heap. It made Rey sad to realize that she had started to trust this person, someone who was still loyal to Snoke.

"You know," Rey said as an after-thought, "I think I'll go back to calling you Kylo Ren."

The dark lord groaned and stood up, using the wall for support. His jaw was set in thinly veiled fury.

"It suits your mask fetish." She turned on her heel and walked away.

"Wait," muttered Ren. "Don't turn your back on me yet…"

It was a desperate plea. Pathetic, really.

"Goodbye, Kylo."

"I know the names of those smugglers."

His voice echoed across the room to Rey's hungry ears, and she stopped. Her heart cried out: _Don't believe him. He'll destroy you._

Rey turned around, voice calm. "Your information means nothing to me now."

Kylo was desperate, his eyes displaying near-hysteria. "But we had a deal!"

"The deal's off," Rey said smoothly. "See, that's what can happen because _you're_ in a glass cage. And _I'm_ not. I'll figure it out on my own."

But Ren persisted, impetuous to the last. "And what if you'd don't? You'll spend the rest of your life in torment, knowing that you had the answers but ultimately refused them."

 _It's a bluff. After all that he's done to your friends. He knows you'll give in._

The Jedi in training allowed herself to shrug and then gave Kylo Ren one final sentiment. "I hope you find your way to the light."

"Rey, don't—"

But she had already turned around and began walking away. The heels of her boots clicked crisply on the concrete.

"REY!" he cried.

She walked out of the cell, the door closing shut. And as she continued down the corridor, Rey thought she could hear his screams.

TBC

 **A/N:** Heeeeyyyy everyone! Thought I would be posting sooner with a longer chapter, but the week got busier than I anticipated. Good news: I have found a fresh stride with this story, one that will hopefully take it to new and interesting places for all of the characters you know and love. Thank you (again) for the tremendous feedback—I am so astonished that I have nearly 100 followers. I honestly never thought I'd ever write a story that so many people liked, and it makes me very happy to be able to write for you. I shall continue sending fabulous cyber cupcakes your way, reviewers!


	14. Spirits In My Head

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 14: Spirits In My Head**

After Finn left Poe's bedside, he generated a to-do list in his mind.

And it didn't matter how tired he was or how much he felt his eyelids were covered in glue. The list needed to be accomplished immediately.

First, he sought out General Organa. She was in the thick of the command center, and although it was buzzing with activity at about 10:00, Leia was locked in a small room with a host of security cameras. Finn rapped on the door, his determination the only thing keeping him sharp and alert at this point after a sleepless night.

"One moment," came a muffled voice behind the door.

Finn waited, hands folded behind his back, thinking about what he was going to say.

 _General, I respectfully resign._

 _I have thought about this a lot, and I must respectfully decline my duties as Commander._

 _It is a difficult decision, one that I have not made without a great deal of thought, but in light of recent events…_

Finn practiced the lines over and over in his mind, but the fact remained that he was scared out of his wits to face the General. Luckily, Finn didn't have to wait long.

"Come in."

The ex-stormtrooper smoothly opened the door, and, upon entering, the little rehearsed speech flew out of his mind.

Not because she was sitting in front of the largest collection of monitors he had ever seen, all projecting a variety of images from areas around the base. Finn lost his words because it was all too obvious that the General had been crying. Recently.

Finn stuttered: "Sh-should I come back, General?"

Leia waved him forward, drawing the other hand under her eyes to wipe away excess moisture. Her peevish response spurred Finn on, and he was about to spill his request, but the General surprised him a second time by speaking first.

"I'm not letting you quit, Finn."

And then the Commander felt his jaw drop.

 _How could she possibly…?_

A small kind of strangled gurgle came out of his lips instead of words, and Finn quickly cleared his throat. "I-I don't understand…"

"Call it a 'Force' thing. Or a twin thing." Her mouth drew into a tight smile. "Call it whatever you want. It has to do with this Dameron business, and you feel you've neglected his recovery. Am I right?"

In a feeble attempt to _not_ trip over his own tongue, Finn managed to choke out, "Basically…Yes."

Leia clasped her hands, standing and sizing him up. Finn felt her gaze as a tangible thing, but her look was not unkind. Rather, it was a motherly stare.

"I can't let you shirk your position. You're too valuable to this cause."

Finn finally found his voice. "With all due respect, General. I just need more time. Three fewer missions a week. And extended meals."

Leia's eyebrows raised. She cocked her head. " _One_ less mission a week."

The Commander wanted to pinch himself. Was he actually negotiating time off with the leader of the Resistance? " _Two_ fewer missions. And two hours a day to help Poe get better."

Leia pursed her lips together, eyes narrowed in thought. She didn't look persuaded.

"He's the best damn pilot in the Resistance," Finn added. "You're gonna need him ready to get back in the game the minute his voice returns."

General Organa paused, then: "All right. You take the time you need for your friends."

Finn could have practically hugged the General, although that would have been extremely weird for both of them. It was enough that a tired smile broke out on his face, and he turned to leave.

And just when Finn was about to check off item number one on his list and move onto the other three, Organa stopped him in his tracks.

"I know what Rey's been doing."

Finn spun around on his heels, questioning, unsure if he was about to be informed or reprimanded for his friend's actions.

Leia always had fire in her eyes, but searching her face more closely, Finn found sadness there too, mingling with weariness.

"I've been watching her interact with my son over the past few weeks. I've seen them collaborate, bicker, laugh together, and ultimately fall apart." With this, Leia began to break down, and Finn wanted nothing more than to erase the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, this mother whose own son had committed unspeakable acts.

"I saw the light wash over him," Leia said, "but now it's gone again. Rey has made her decision. What he did—threatening Poe—was the last straw, it seems."

She wiped another hand across her eyes, as if annoyed by their wetness. "She was his only hope, I'm afraid. The only one who was willing to show him compassion. I've tried to talk to him, but he won't listen to me."

Then General Organa seemed to remember herself and cleared her throat, chuckling half-heartedly. "I'm sorry, Commander. I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to an old princess moan about her wayward son."

Finn immediately said, "No. I suppose… Maybe I was wrong about him."

The expression of surprise on the General's face only made Finn reaffirm his statement. What did _he_ know about family? How could he possibly relate to Leia's situation? The closest thing he had to a family were the stormtroopers that lived in the same barrack as him growing up. But those boys were constantly moved, sent from base to base around the galaxy. He never knew anyone for very long to become friends with them. And his _real_ family—Finn had no memory of them or their whereabouts.

"General," began Finn, licking his lips. "It might not be my place, but if _you_ saw good in your son, and _Skywalker_ saw good in him, then it exists. It's not your imagination. If Ben is somewhere inside Kylo Ren, then he _needs_ you, and Rey, and all of us to bring him back. I only wish my parents would have done the same for me."

With a slight nod from his superior, the ex-stormtrooper turned and walked out of the security center. Finn could feel his eyelids droop with tiredness, but he persevered. The small smile on General Organa's face as he left, like a tiny spark of hope, had been enough to set his priorities straight and keep him going, if only for a little longer.

 _Three more things to do._

The Commander found BB-8 at the same charging station where it had been sent the previous night. Finn crouched down and pressed a button along BB-8's metal shell. Inquisitively, the droid came to life, white lights flashing as if Finn had just pulled it out of a fast-paced dream.

It beeped straight away, head spinning around, worried for Dameron.

Finn couldn't help but grin. _Maybe that's why we get along so well, my friend. We're both perpetually worried about Poe._

The ex-stormtrooper gave the astromech good news: Re-assignment to Commander Dameron until further notice. BB-8 paused, as if it was letting the news sink in, and then it whooped for joy, gyrating in circles around Finn as he laughed tiredly.

Then BB-8 pulled back, swiveling its head to gaze at him. It emitted a short twitter and then a tone that Finn could only describe as a tonal sigh.

Finn smirked. "What?"

And then his exhausted and muddled mind understood. The droid thought Finn was displeased with it, that Finn didn't want to work with it anymore.

So Finn just stroked its head reassuringly. "No, no, it's not that. You've been the best companion I could have asked for. But Poe needs you more now. And I think you miss him too—am I right?"

BB-8 chirped an affirmative and left to find Dameron back in the med bay, but not before it nudged Finn's calf and bleeped a goodbye.

Finn wiped sleep from his eyes and headed back to his quarters.

Once there, he sat down at his desk and took out a piece of paper. It was so antiquated—this method of communication. But it was somehow fitting _._ Perhaps it was Finn's exhaustion, or his focus on setting things right that morning, but once he put pen to paper, the words flowed with no stops or starts.

 _Dear Rey…_

He was finished in less than ten minutes. Finn folded the piece of paper carefully, creasing it in the middle, and regarded it for a moment in his grasp. Should he deliver it then and there? No, it wasn't the right moment. Instead, Finn placed it in a trouser pocket of his flight pants and zipped it shut. The right moment would come, and he would have the note with him.

Then Finn walked to his bed and collapsed upon it. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

* * *

Poe Dameron was running at about 65%. That's what BB-8 told him first thing that morning when he woke up from the wonky _beep beep beep_ of the droid's alarm clock impression. And then the pilot threw a pillow at the astromech teasingly.

 _Stop scanning me,_ he wanted to tell it, but he wasn't awake enough to reach for his computer pad. And it had only been a week since he was released from the medical bay. Just a week since he got BB-8 back—his very own personal alarm clock and so much more that Poe couldn't even put it into words.

With BB-8 came a week of schedules revolving around food and sleep, each step of every day dictated by his astromech friend. He could hear BB-8's insistent signals beside him, a metal claw tugging at the sheets cocooned around his body.

 _First a glass of water. And then breakfast. People need breakfast in the morning._

It was strange to be re-learning the most basic of human functions. Even after his collapse, Poe was mystified as to how it ever got so bad. But then he would think of Kylo Ren sitting in the dark windowless cell, and his own terror would remind him. Dameron kept the fear in the back of his mind. So far, he was able to keep it at bay.

Dameron was running at 65%. But 65% wasn't bad. In fact, Poe would take it. Gladly. 65% meant that he only needed a robotic chair to travel long distances. He could feed himself, dress himself, and perform the lightest of duties. And every day these things got easier. Finn was with him every day now too, (mostly in the evenings) and Rey would check on him in the afternoons. And BB-8 was there, every minute, by his side.

Just having his friends with him was enough to distract him from the dark thoughts, the guilt. Having renewed energy filled Dameron with the rationality he had lacked for the past month; he _knew_ his mother's death wasn't his fault, that the massacre on Jakku wasn't his fault, but he couldn't help dwell on the idea that he _could_ have done something more.

 _I_ should _have done something._

 _And been skewered in an instant by Kylo Ren?_ the other half of him thought. _Yeah, that would have worked out_ really _well._

Poe stood in his refresher before leaving for breakfast, and he gazed at his mirror. A shudder ran through him as he was reminded of the last time he had looked into it with any interest and the familiar face from his childhood who had stared right back. But this time, his own visage was the only image in the glass. Dameron checked his face like one would check the mileage on a podracer. Pronounced creases under eyes, but not _so_ pronounced as before. Getting better.

Rey called it "progress." Finn called it "goal-setting." Poe called it "a waste of time."

Because he still couldn't speak. And that meant he still couldn't fly.

Softly, so BB-8 wouldn't hear in the other room, Poe tried clearing his throat, swallowing a few times. He glanced at himself in the mirror, raising his right hand up and pressing it on the side of the glass, leaning into it, concentrating. This was part of his new routine, albeit a secret one.

Poe opened his mouth and tried to speak.

A whisper trickled out, no more than a faint rattle. Dameron cleared his throat and tried again with the same results.

Poe took a quick breath, his eyes misting over with the frustration he felt, with his helplessness. But BB-8's worried chirps pulled him out of his own problems and back to the present.

 _Breakfast now. Try to speak later._

The pilot exited the fresher smoothly, giving BB-8 a thumbs-up and a winning smile. No sense in worrying the droid further. And his companion beeped enthusiastically, lilting out a host of plans for the day. In fact, the astromech had packed so many appointments into the day that Dameron wasn't sure they'd be able to get to all of them. But Poe knew that BB-8 was trying to keep his mind occupied, and for that the pilot was extremely grateful.

Over a generous helping of fluffy sweet bread and slices of various fruits, BB-8 trilled on about the day's agenda (sitting in on meetings, a mid-morning snack, working on a faulty engine of a starfighter, lunch, decorating Poe's quarters, another snack, dinner, watching a holovid with Finn) and Poe realized how loquacious the droid had become lately while being in his presence. Probably to make up for the lack of Dameron's usual chattiness. But Poe didn't really mind it. He supposed he had learned something after all from this unexpected absence of speech: the importance of listening.

Dameron swiveled in his seat when he felt a tug on the smooth brown leather of his jacket and noticed Finn standing behind him. Poe was about to berate him electronically for sneaking up on him, but that's when he noticed that Finn's left arm was in a sling, and a new cut marred the corner of his lip. He was wearing the standard orange jumpsuit of a pilot, helmet hanging at his side.

 _Fresh from a mission,_ Poe thought.

The pilot was about to stand, his arms outstretched inquiringly, making room for his friend to sit beside him at the mess table, but Finn waved him aside.

"No, it's fine. I ate earlier. Don't get up."

Dameron wanted to smack Finn with his own politeness. His heart was hammering in his chest as he fumbled for the computer pad, jabbing a cryptic message:

WHAT HAPPENED?

Finn glanced at the note and shrugged. "Ran into a few… problems on the last mission around Felucia."

Dameron gestured again for the younger man to sit down, and Finn eventually complied, easing onto the bench gingerly. Poe was deliberate to give Finn extra room so he wouldn't accidentally jostle the injured arm. Seeing his friend hurt was yet another reminder how _he_ should have been in Finn's place, not the other way around.

ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?

The Commander nodded. "Just a sprain."

Aside from the injuries and worried eyes, Finn looked happier recently—probably because he had given up some of his responsibilities as Commander. The ex-stormtrooper leaned over to BB-8 beside the mess table and patted its head while it cooed a greeting. Poe finished his breakfast, licking a smidgeon of icing from the bread off his fingers.

Finn leaned over, whispering in his ear. "Got something I need to show you."

Poe scanned his friend, trying to discern what exactly was going on. There was something urgent about Finn's tone that he didn't like.

Dameron nodded and stood up, BB-8 whistling a string of positives because he had managed to finish another meal. The droid always did this, as if it was his master, a life coach of sorts. But Poe didn't mind the praise. He gave his buddy another thumbs-up and slid out of his seat, reaching to help Finn, but the Commander waved him away again. Poe picked up his computer pad and typed.

WHERE ARE WE GOING?

"Hangar bay," Finn muttered, and they took off.

Along the way, the ex-stormtrooper rambled on, and Poe eventually realized his words amounted to a bunch of excuses. But excuses for what?

"They came out of nowhere... Actually, the General is beginning to suspect that there's a spy in our midst… I wouldn't have asked you to help, but you know this craft better than anyone on the base, and it's scheduled for another mission at the end of the week…"

BB-8 trundled alongside them, chirping a query.

Finn sighed in reply. "Just… See for yourself."

Before Poe knew it, they had reached the hangar, opening up before them like an unexpected present. Sitting in one corner, still smoking like a spent Vulptereen, was something so close to Poe's heart that he had never forgotten it, even when he was lost.

The droid beneath him whirred in bursts of chatter, spinning around as if it was distressed. Or perhaps it was anticipating Dameron's reaction.

All things considered, Poe took it pretty well when he saw the damage on Black One.

Consciously shutting his mouth after it dropped open, Poe walked slowly towards the battered T-70 X-Wing like a man in a dream.

"I'm really sorry," murmured Finn behind him. "I know the ship means a lot to you…"

Poe may have seemed stoic, but he wished he could have shouted out every expletive known to the galaxy at that moment. His heart pulsed frenetically as he approached his old craft and examined the hull. He perused the shattered windows and cracks through the blaster cannon underneath.

Behind him, Finn continued his apologies, his voice becoming more strained with each sentence: "I know it looks bad, but the thrust engines are solid. Nothing wrong with the hyperdrive…"

As BB-8 finished making a circular inspection of the vehicle, it beeped preliminary findings to Poe, and Dameron heaved a sigh of relief. Just what he had assumed: the damage was superficial and more cosmetic than anything. The X-Wing would fly again with only minimal repairs.

Poe rubbed his jaw, mentally planning the adjustments when Finn stepped beside him. Dameron hadn't realized how distraught the younger man was until he saw the utter guilt on his face, hands wringing, teeth clenched together.

The astromech cooed a reassurance, and Poe placed a hand on Finn's shoulder gingerly, smiling.

"Are you going to kill me now or kill me later?" Finn asked softly.

Poe would have chuckled if he had the ability. Instead, he grasped his computer tablet in hand and punched out the words Finn needed to hear from him.

I'M JUST GLAD YOU'RE OK. YOU THINK I CARE MORE ABOUT THE SHIP THAN YOU?

Finn's eyes widened when he read the message, and he stumbled over the words. "N-no, I… I just thought you were gonna lose it when you found out…"

Dameron sighed, shaking his head.

Finn looked down, a rare flash of innocence and emotion showing on his face. "It's just that… Sometimes I forget…"

Poe tried to catch Finn's gaze, questioning his next thought.

"Sometimes I forget that the Rebellion isn't like the First Order."

HOW SO?

Finn glanced at the computer message. "Ships were more important than people."

Dameron felt the sentence sting him with emotion, and he was forced to remember that this was all new to Finn—this life of relative freedom and personal liberties. Did Finn have many friends back in the First Order? Poe was nearly one hundred percent certain that he didn't. So Poe took the computer tablet and began crafting a fairly eloquent (and somewhat sappy) reply, but then BB-8 spouted a series of blips in astromech that more profoundly and simply stated Poe's feelings. The Basic equivalent was: _You are more important to us than you know._

How could Poe top _that?_ So he just composed a short sentence and showed it to his friend.

WHAT THE DROID SAID.

A small smile hovered over Finn's face before he crouched underneath Black One, probably wanting to show Poe more damage, but then came a familiar voice from behind them.

"I heard the fleet recently returned..."

The pilot spun around and BB-8 spouted cheerful blips as another of its favorite people appeared.

 _Rey._

She was beaming, placing a calming hand on BB-8 as it swiveled in circles around her.

"How are you?" she greeted.

Dameron nodded his head to show he was well and jabbed a thumb at the spacecraft to indicate his current problem.

Rey admired the X-Wing behind him. "I can see that." Then she averted her eyes, as if trying to decide what to say. Eventually, Rey muttered, "Do you have a free moment? I need to tell you some—"

And then Finn revealed himself, coming out from the shadows of the damaged X-Wing, and the Jakkunian stopped as if she had been turned into stone.

"Rey, I…" Finn reached for his pants pocket, hand hovering above it, and his words trailed off.

Poe flicked his gaze from Finn to Rey and back to Finn again. In those few seconds, he noticed the apology on Finn's face and the flash of anger turned to concern on Rey's when she viewed the abrasion on his lip, his arm in a sling. It was as if Rey was drifting between two possible reactions: whether to lash out against the ex-stormtrooper or rush in and embrace him. It pained Dameron to be in the middle of his friends' conflict and with no access to a voice.

 _If I could shout, I'd tell them to knock it off._

What good would become of this feud, anyway? They had precious little hours to spend together. And this was the first time the three had been in the same vicinity since Poe woke up after collapsing.

Rather than choosing spite or comfort, Rey's eyes turned downcast. In this way, her decision was more painful; she was simply ignoring Finn.

"I understand if you can't get away…"

Poe licked his lips, catching Finn's eyes, trying to gauge his input, but the ex-stormtrooper's shoulders were slumped in defeat.

BB-8, ever observant, rolled over to Poe and then rested beside Finn. It changed the subject, beeping about helping Finn with some diagnostics on Black One before Dameron started fixing it. Poe nodded at the Commander, making it clear that he would return soon, and followed Rey.

They walked quietly, which was perfectly fine with Poe. The longer he didn't have a voice, the more his friends felt they _had_ to be constantly chatting to fill the void. But, of course, Rey realized the importance of silence. Besides, she walked with her head bowed, lost in thought.

 _Probably trying to get over seeing Finn._

It wasn't until they were outside and almost to the _Millennium Falcon_ when Rey abruptly stopped and faced Poe.

"He's all right, isn't he? Finn?"

A smile flickered across Poe's face. He typed on the computer tablet.

YES

Relief spread across Rey's face when she read the message, and she beckoned Poe to walk up the ramp of the _Falcon_ , following along behind him. He meandered through its short corridors, marveling at the legendary craft, remembering hours he had spent reading about the exploits of the famous Han Solo. He knew the path to the cockpit by heart, and he paused before sitting down in the pilot's seat, not wanting to overstep his bounds.

Rey gestured to the spot, and Poe complied, sinking into its soft cushion, the flight console spread out before him. He felt like a child again, his eyes lighting up with wonder.

"Sometimes I come here to be alone," Rey said softly.

Poe swiveled in his seat to examine her. Rey's eyes were far away but then snapped back immediately. She took a quick breath, as if having made her decision.

"You look much better," she said.

Poe shrugged.

Rey asked, "Do you _feel_ better?"

He shrugged again.

Rey swallowed. "I think I can help you with that."

Dameron cocked his head, intrigued, wondering what Rey could possibly be thinking about.

"You see…" She took another deep breath. "The Force showed me inside your mind on Vera 5 when Kylo Ren… I saw the clearing, the cave, the tree…"

Poe's mouth opened in shock, his pulse quickening. Unstoppable memories threatened to spill into his vision, accosting his senses, buzzing in his ears. He remembered the boy in black, and there had been another figure too… a girl…

"I know you're haunted by what he made you see in the fire," Rey continued. "But I saw… something different. Something that he blocked from you. I think it would help if you saw what I saw… Do you want me to show you?"

Poe's eyes shone with a combination of curiosity and fear. He nodded once, twice.

Rey closed her eyes and raised a hand to Poe's forehead. Then her fingertips brushed his temple. The cockpit vanished, along with Rey, and Dameron smelled smoke and felt the heat of flames.

TBC

 **A/N:** Action should be building in the next few chapters after this lull. Special thanks to **Sina, Pricklefritz,** and **Neon Wish Likes Pine Trees.** You all rock and deserve an extra dozen cyper cupcakes sent your way!


	15. Standing At the Wall

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 15: Standing At the Wall**

There was the roar of the fire, consuming his senses, the crackle of flames and perfume of burnt leaves.

Poe wanted to shout out. He was terrified. Why had he let Rey into his mind? Why had he trusted her? It was going to be the same as before, when not-Ben had penetrated his defenses, had opened him up to shame.

Then came a voice through the heat. It was soothing, echoing around him.

"Don't be afraid. Just see…"

Almost immediately, Dameron calmed, and the fire's flames diminished, as if entranced by the words too.

The clearing came into view around him, and the fire was only a small part of that clearing. Bold as ever, the ancient tree stood to his right, and the cave remained on his left, but it didn't hold the foreboding allure of before.

Poe felt a hand gently clasp his, and he looked down to see the little girl from his dream on Vera 5. She was so small—only four or five. But her beige-colored clothes and long brown hair tied back in tidy loops were the same as…

 _Rey._

She smiled at him, the innocent toothy smile of a youngling, but her eyes held wisdom they could not contain.

"All will be well," she reassured him, her voice light and airy in the gentle breeze. The fire crackled in front of them. "Just see…"

Her hand wriggled in his, and he held it firmly as the fire beckoned. Poe took a deep breath and gazed into its blaze.

The images flashed through his consciousness, but they were not invasive and tinged with darkness as the ones from before. These memories were altogether different.

A festival on Yavin 4. What was the occasion? Poe couldn't remember. A gaggle of children raced through a maze of gigantic trees, waving colorful streamers in their wake. Poe led the pack, zipping through the moon's forest to his favorite spot: the giant massassi tree near his home. Children laughed, carefree, running haphazardly in a game of tag. Poe stretched out on a mossy blanket of grass near the base of the tree and gazed at the dappled sunlight sparkling through the forest's canopy. Then he heard someone call his name.

"POE!"

He jerked upright at the cry, which was more like a squeak, because he recognized the voice—it belonged to Ben Solo. Poe dashed a few meters to his right, just barely stopping himself from tumbling straight into the small figure.

"What's wrong?" Poe clipped at the boy.

Ben was crouched over, his hands obscuring something. Then Solo looked up at him, his dark round eyes moist and full of wonder. He moved his hands and revealed a tiny creature with a pronounced beak and bright golden wings.

Dameron's lips parted in surprise. "A whisper bird!"

Solo rubbed his nose with one hand, cradling the animal with his other. "I j-just found it here on the ground. A stintaril was trying to get it, so I chased it away…"

Poe had seen it happen before—his parents had told him how the scavenging rodents made a game of tormenting baby whisper birds before they could fly.

"The stintaril must have knocked it out of its nest," Dameron said.

The little bird chirped, a strangled squawk, and Ben pressed it towards his chest, shielding it. "Is… Is it gonna live?"

Poe looked down at Ben's soulful expression; he could see the tears welling in the younger boy's eyes. He couldn't possibly admit to Ben that most baby birds separated from their nests and mothers would die. And at that moment, Poe realized for the first time that he could _choose_ hope against incredible odds to protect those he cared about.

"Yes, we'll take care of it," Poe said gently, helping Ben stand. "Let's find my grandfather. He'll know what to do."

By this time, the other children had gathered around and they all made a solemn procession back to Poe's home. Ben led the pack. Once inside, Poe's grandfather helped them create a home for the whisper bird using an empty fish tank. When they fed it worms and water, the little creature perked up and began moving around the clear glass container, stretching its golden wings. Poe thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, aside from his mother's starfighter.

A small hand pressed into his arm, and he beamed at his childhood friend.

Ben Solo smiled back. "Happy birthday, Poe."

Other memories streamed through Dameron's mind via the fire. Many of them involved his mother, pushing long dark strands of hair behind her ears as she ran a hand across his forehead, tucking him into bed. Snippets of lullabies she used to sing him hummed through the air. It was as if he could hear every song she ever sang, an outpouring of grace, a remembrance of how much she loved him.

Flash forward to the first time Poe ever flew an X-Wing. Stars zipped past him, spinning in a delicate dance. Dameron felt laughter roll from his gut, echoing the beat of his heart.

"Dameron? You all right?" his Commander's voice piped in through Poe's headset.

"Yes SIR!" Poe whooped, circling in loops, lost in his element. _This is what it means to be alive,_ he thought. _Now, in this moment._

A trill from the astromech strapped in behind him brought Dameron's attention back to the task at hand. But the BB-8 unit didn't seem perturbed by his fancy flying. Instead, it was joyous, just as excited to be up in the air as he was.

"Hang on, little buddy!" called Poe as they rocketed past other X-Wings, and the stars provided a glittery setting for the rest of the galaxy. Dameron gazed into the never-ending starscape and imagined his future expanding before him.

Cut to a two-shot of standing face to face with a stormtrooper on the _Finalizer._ Poe's head was fuzzy, having been whisked away from his holding cell to who-knew-where. He would most likely have to endure another interrogation by the Jedi Killer, Kylo Ren. Instead, Poe recalled a close-up of Finn's face as he removed his stormtrooper helmet and gripped his shoulders, rallying and supporting him at the same time.

Dameron thought fleetingly: _Not much has changed between Finn and me._

"We're gonna do this," Poe said after Finn told him his plan, and he grinned despite the blood running down the side of his head, despite the pain.

 _We're really gonna do this._

"Poe…"

Dameron felt as if he was lying on soft sand, being washed by warm waves. His eyes were closed, and he felt so relaxed, so comfortable, that he could imagine his body dissolving away into nothingness.

"Poe, come back to me…"

The soft voice persisted through his dream until he couldn't ignore it any longer. And when his eyelashes finally fluttered open, the cockpit of the _Millennium Falcon_ was such an unexpected sight that a choked sob escaped Dameron's lips, and he instantly covered his hands with his eyes. He was back on D'Qar inside the _Falcon_ , leaning back in the pilot's chair limply.

"It's all right," Rey soothed, her hand on his arm, rubbing in slow circles. "That was all I saw. Were they… Were they memories?"

The magnitude of all the recollections hit him like a sledgehammer's impact, and Dameron nodded numbly, tears sliding down his cheeks.

Rey continued speaking calmly. "I'm… I'm sorry. I had no control over it… I have not yet completed my training."

Dameron nodded again, taking in a shaky breath and rubbing the wetness from his eyes with the back of his hand. He didn't blame Rey for what she saw. He only wished she could have shown him those memories sooner—so many memories he had tucked away and never thought of.

When Poe finally got his emotions under control, he grasped Rey's hand and squeezed it slightly, gazing at her. She seemed to understand his feelings, and soon her eyes filled with tears as well.

"I just wanted you to know," she said evenly, "that the good moments in your life outweigh the bad."

Dameron's eyes wandered over the _Falcon's_ control panel, his hands examining the knobs and dials as if to change the subject. Because it made him uncomfortable to be the center of attention when he wasn't piloting a spacecraft.

But Rey wasn't finished. "Don't blame yourself for Jakku."

Poe froze, shooting her a brief glance.

Rey said, "If you hadn't been captured, we… We wouldn't have Finn."

Dameron knew she was right. Suddenly, he was reminded of his last mental interrogation on Vera 5—when Kylo Ren had nearly broken his mind. Poe scrambled to grab his computer pad and typed awkwardly, correcting several typos before showing it to Rey. Her brows furrowed when she read his message.

THERE WAS A MOMENT WHEN KYLO WAS IN MY HEAD. HE TRIED TO TAKE OVER, BUT I STOPPED HIM SOMEHOW. IT WAS LIKE I HAD JEDI POWERS. HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?

Rey pondered silently for a few minutes, then spoke. "Everyone can tune into the Force in their own minds—many people can control their dreams, for example. And this is one facet of the Force… but very few can take those powers out of the dreamscape into reality. At least, that's what Master Luke told me. I mostly just go along with whatever he says because it's so…" She waved her hand. "…out there. So it _is_ likely that Kylo Ren couldn't break you because you tapped into the Force."

Dameron considered her response before replying. No since in holding anything back from Rey. After all, she had seen the best _and_ worst his consciousness had to offer.

I'M TERRIFIED OF HIM.

"So was I," said Rey, "until something changed… I suppose I got to know him."

I KNOW HIM. AT LEAST, I USED TO. BUT IT'S NOT THAT I'M AFRAID OF WHO HE IS OR WHAT HE'S BECOME. I FEEL THAT WE'RE CONNECTED SOMEHOW.

Rey's eyes widened when she read his latest response, as if Poe's message had revealed something else about herself that she didn't care to admit.

"I feel connected to him too."

They sat facing each other for several heartbeats, mirroring each other's movements. Dameron couldn't think of another time since before Vera 5 that he had felt more at peace, yet he was also more uncertain of his future than ever before. Then Poe broke the silence with a yawn and stretched, muscles in his back popping.

"I'm sorry," Rey apologized again. "You must be tired."

Dameron produced a protein bar from his jacket pocket and waved it with a smile before opening it and taking a bite while typing simultaneously.

BB-8 HIDES THESE IN MY CLOTHES. DROIDS ARE SNEAKY LIKE THAT.

"It cares about you," the Jakkunian said softly.

Poe cleared his throat and stood up, wobbling slightly until he found his footing and turned his back to Rey, ready to return to the hangar.

"We all do," she whispered.

Dameron turned back around and placed a callused hand under Rey's chin, gazing deeply into her brown eyes. A recognition and acceptance passed between them, and Poe walked away with a renewed energy and hope springing from his fingertips.

BB-8 and Finn greeted Dameron when he got back to the hangar bay, and they started repairs on Black One. He didn't have any doubt that it would fly again one day. And, just for an instant, Dameron didn't mind at all that he wouldn't be the one to guide it through the stars.

* * *

The Supreme Leader had returned.

Ben Solo hadn't been graced by Snoke's presence for nearly a week and a half, and he had assumed the decreased nightmares were another side effect of the neural inhibitors, his new best friends.

But this morning, the garish serpentine face appeared, like a ghoul, hovering above him as he tried to return to a dreamless sleep.

 _-You're weak. Just like your mother. Did you see how she moaned and whimpered outside your cell?_

Ben _had_ seen all too clearly. The General had visited him only last night, pleading with him as she usually did. _Come back to us, Ben. We need you, Ben. The light is still inside you._

 _-Pathetic, wasn't it?_

Ben Solo had to agree with Snoke's apparition when it came to his mother. She didn't know the meaning of the word "subtle." It was embarrassing, really. Not that what she said was _wrong_ —just her delivery of the information. So emotional.

Although his mother's tears didn't rattle him, the fact that he was still walking a fine line between the Resistance and the Dark Side of the Force was worrisome to Ben. So far, the neural inhibitors had worked in stamping out Snoke and the mantra long enough for a little bit of light to shine through. And on top of the drugs, Rey had been persuasive. That is, when she was still talking to him.

But the fact was that Rey had abandoned him. Ben hadn't seen her for weeks. Even Skywalker had stopped visiting; Ben never thought he would miss the Jedi hovering out of sight in the shadows beyond his cell, observing him.

The chance of escape was still possible. He alone possessed the clues to find Rey's parents, and the fact that he had this knowledge might be his only chance of obtaining freedom.

"Just be patient," he muttered to the Supreme Leader in his waking dream. "I'm turning Rey against them. She's just…confused. She'll join me in the end."

But Ben Solo squirmed beneath the rasping ghost as it pressed into his chest, seeping into his thoughts.

 _-You let that girl get under your skin._

Who knew that the enemy could be so charming, so relatable? Ben had heard of Rey when he was ten or eleven years old, in the process of being prepped for apprenticeship to Luke Skywalker. That was before he had been kidnapped the summer of his thirteenth year. Before the craving for the Dark Side began.

"Go away!" Ben hissed, claustrophobic from the being floating around his head.

 _-What are you going to do? Take more pills to get rid of me? Like a coward?_

In fact, that was _exactly_ what Ben was going to do. He forced himself out of bed, staggering from the terror of the spectre that now followed him around.

Was he still asleep? Ben couldn't tell anymore.

Bright lights from the cell's ceiling shone painfully into his eyes as he dry-swallowed a pill from the small container on the desk in the corner. Skywalker had been trusting him to self-medicate for some time now, and he had kept to a strict schedule. One each morning after waking, like clockwork.

Ben propped himself up by his elbows on the desk, smashing his eyes shut and waiting for the neural inhibitor to take effect, for the figure of the Supreme Leader to go away.

Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. And Snoke remained at his side.

"Please," Ben muttered frantically, teeth grinding together, trying to look away from the ghastly image. "Please go away."

Snoke just chuckled harshly, his slender fingers, like large needles, pricking into Ben's spine.

 _-You think a little pill is going to get rid of me? You disgrace me, apprentice. You were forbidden to use your old name, and you let that_ girl _call you Solo._

Ben was trapped. He ran to the opposite corner, sliding to the floor, arms up to cover his face in desperation. But the figure of Snoke followed him, gliding across the floor and growing in size before him so that his face was contorted, mouth snarling in a tooth-filled grimace.

 _-This is your punishment for betraying the First Order. You will spend eternity with me, facing your failure. Until you admit that your true name is Kylo Ren._

Ben shook his head, as if that would make the horrifying hallucination disappear.

"All right, my name is Kylo Ren," he said, trying to placate the monster.

 _-You've got to_ mean _it._

The young man looked at his shaking hands and stopped. All he could hear was the wheeze of his own breath, the palpitations of his own heart. _Snoke isn't real._ He _wants you to pick a side, which means_ you're _trying to pick a side. So make your choice, and he'll leave._

 _-Are you Kylo Ren, or aren't you?_ snarled the Supreme Leader.

"No," Organa's son said, voice quavering. "My name is Ben Solo."

 _-WHAT DID YOU SAY?_ Snoke barked, crashing into him. The ghost sent shooting sparks of pain through Solo's bones when it touched him, and he cried out, hands covering his head, futilely trying to block the assault.

But then came a new voice. It was close by.

"He _said_ his name. Ben Solo."

Ben's head twitched, looking up. There was the whiplash shot of a blaster, and Snoke screeched a high-pitched wail that would wake the dead.

And the hallucination disappeared.

Through the haze of dreamy delirium, Ben saw a new figure saunter over to him, long black boots clicking steadily on the hard floor of the cell. At first, Ben thought it might have been Skywalker, or Dameron, or one of the other Resistance fighters, but this person's gait was too familiar to belong to any of them.

Ben felt his mouth instantly go dry and his heart drop into his stomach. He had thought that no night terror could have been more petrifying than the Supreme Leader. Oh, how wrong he had been.

"Hello, son."

Han Solo tilted his chin down and appraised Ben with an always-charming smirk. Ben felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, a wave of nausea washing over him.

 _This is not real not real not real not real not_

"Yeah, you're right, of course," said his father, casually walking the width of the cell, looking out as if admiring the view. "I guess I'm just a symbol in your head."

Ben scrambled on his hands and knees to stand and get as far away from the figure of his deceased father as possible. Under the bright lights, Han Solo swiveled to face Ben, palms facing upwards in a peaceful gesture. His eyes were unadorned by wrinkles, his light brown hair shiny with no trace of grey. This was the image of Han Solo from Ben's childhood, when he was a General.

 _How many times did I long to see you when I was a child? How ironic that you should show up now._

"I know I wasn't there for you when you were growing up," admitted his father. "And, for that, I'm sorry."

The image of Han Solo lingered along the clear wall of the cell before stepping slowly towards Ben. The younger man convulsed with fear, using a fist to beat his chest over and over and over, trying to force the dream to dissolve in vain.

"It's time for you to listen to your mother and come back to her," said Han Solo quietly. "It's time for you to see your own potential to do good in the galaxy."

"No," moaned Ben weakly, pressed up against the corner. "Why must you torment me?"

Han Solo shook his head. "I know this must be hard for you, son. But I don't blame you for what you did. I know that Snoke turned you against me and against your mother."

Ben cried out, arms crossed above his head to block out the image of his deceased father. Desperate to find some way to make the ghost disappear, Ben opened the container of neural inhibitors and swallowed another, drinking deeply from a cup of water, excess droplets running down his chin. He flinched when he felt hands on his shoulders and lashed out violently at the image.

Han Solo's body flickered like candlelight but remained intact. He gazed at Ben as his son sat on a cot and pulled the sheets up and around himself protectively, shivering.

"I love you, Ben."

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Ben screamed, hands over his ears, his heart racing.

"I love you."

Han Solo repeated those three words over and over until they became a new terrifying and hypnotic mantra in his mind. Ben felt the ceiling above him tilt dangerously, and when he came to, he was lying on the floor of his cell, blankets entangling his legs. Ben looked up dizzily. His head felt too heavy. He had never taken a double dose of the inhibitors before. Perhaps this was one of the side effects. But his physical condition was the least of his concerns.

Ben peeked around his cell, expecting his father's figure to pop up at any moment. But there was no one. Silence greeted him.

 _It worked._

Snoke's former apprentice allowed himself a small sigh before the crushing guilt of what he had done caught up with him. But the feeling didn't last long and slowly evaporated. _Strange._ In a matter of minutes, Ben Solo was completely numb.

Any remnants of the Force he could usually tap into and muster when he took the normal dose of inhibitors were almost totally gone. Ben attempted to stand and fell back on his cot. The cell around him spun in circles, and it took him a moment to orient himself.

Sleep. He could use a few more hours of it. And perhaps the effects of the drugs would wear off by then. It wasn't like he had a packed itinerary for the day.

Solo had just drifted off when he was jarred awake by the alarms. Warning lights began to flash around him, white and red. He stirred, groggy.

It was not the most ideal time for the base to be under attack.

* * *

When Rey heard that Luke Skywalker was scheduled to depart on a diplomatic mission, she sprinted to the hangar bay.

She hadn't spoken with her mentor in several weeks. Part of her was fully aware that Skywalker had been inundated with new responsibilities since rejoining the Resistance. But another part of her was afraid that she had displeased the Jedi by befriending Kylo Two-Faced Ren and shirking her training in the process.

 _Does he know about visiting Ben?_ Rey was certain the Jedi had sensed their meetings. There wasn't much you could get past the old man.

Rey was out of breath and panting by the time she reached the small transport vessel that Skywalker was stepping inside of.

"Master Luke!" she called desperately.

The hooded figure slowly turned around. As Rey approached him, his appearance shocked her. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his face looked thinner, more haggard than usual. Still, he greeted her with a thin smile.

"Rey," he said, voice warm.

The Jedi in training stopped short. Chaos reigned around her as a plethora of workers loaded crates in various ships. The fleet, including Black One, had already departed on a scouting mission days ago. The base was in a state of flux. Rey knew that General Organa had been searching for another suitable location for some time. Perhaps that's where so many vessels were headed now, gathering reconnaissance.

"When will you return?" she asked plainly. There was too much she wanted to tell her mentor, and Rey knew it would have to wait for another time.

Luke gazed at her with eyes that could see through any deception, that knew her secrets without even searching for them. Rey's head bowed, uncomfortable with his gaze.

 _He knows about Ben. Of course he knows._

"Soon, I hope," he said, then he sighed deeply. It was a sigh full of despair, of failure. Rey thought he looked twenty years older. Almost imperceptibly, the Jedi faltered in his steps, and Rey instantly braced Skywalker.

"Master?" she said, voice tinged with fear.

Luke cleared his throat, steadying himself. "I am well, Rey. You may let go."

She released him, fingers splayed out in case he still needed help. She felt cold all over.

"Are you ill?"

Skywalker shook his head, a rough laugh escaping his lips. "Being here has taken too much out of me, I'm afraid. Because of my nephew."

Rey was puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I have been blocking Ben's presence from Snoke for weeks now. It is exhausting work, but it's the only way I have been able to hide him here for so long without the First Order detecting us."

Rey's mind whirled as she struggled to grasp what Skywalker told her. Was this the reason her training had abruptly stopped, that the Jedi was indisposed so often? As she looked at Luke's face, drawn and pale, she was fearful of what this immense secret had cost him to keep.

Skywalker's eyes darted outside. It was a sunny day on D'Qar, bright blue sky smeared with white clouds, idyllic for a picnic with Poe and BB-8 or Finn.

 _Finn…_

"I fear my efforts were pointless," the Jedi said, interrupting her thoughts.

Rey was about to ask him for clarification, but Chewbacca edged past her, moaning a soft jibe. She nodded a greeting at the Wookie and caught the edge of Skywalker's cloak as he started to turn away again.

Their eyes locked, master and pupil, one spirit from two different generations.

Rey said, "Tell me what to do."

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she longed to clarify the statement: _Tell me where I can find my parents._

Skywalker stood silently while ships were loaded around them, a mess of workers hurrying left and right. There was the roar of an engine. His vessel was due to depart any minute.

"Save him," he said simply. "If you can."

Before Rey could respond, the Jedi boarded the transport vessel and it rolled outside before smoothly taking off. She watched it disappear into the sky with half a dozen other ships.

 _Save Poe? Save Finn? How does Finn need saving?_

But Rey knew _exactly_ whom Skywalker was talking about.

 _Save Ben._

Rey was so focused on her mentor's directions that she didn't notice the growing cloud on the horizon until it was almost on top of her. And when Rey felt the dark shadows play across her face she realized it wasn't a cloud after all, but a fleet. A fleet that didn't belong to the Resistance.

Everything happened in slow motion after that. Rey screamed, and her cries were drowned out by the sounds of explosions and the roar of flames.

TBC

 **A/N:** Surprise! Another chapter for you! Having free time = amazing. Let me know what you thought about the latest episode in this little saga. Cyber cupcakes for you all! I'm thinking… rocky road flavor?


	16. Many Red Flags

**Far Away from Nowhere**

 **Chapter 16: Many Red Flags**

Finn needed help with some diagnostics on a vintage A-wing at approximately 16:00, and Poe Dameron was his man.

He stood at the door to his friend's quarters and paused.

 _Tonight is the night that I give Rey the letter._

The handwritten note had been burning a hole in Finn's pocket for the better part of two weeks, and it was about time he showed it to her. Because he had been losing sleep over not giving the letter to Rey. Then again, it was hard to find the excuse to deliver the letter when Finn couldn't think of the last time they had had a basic conversation besides an brief greeting every other day, usually in the company of Poe.

 _Poe. Maybe I should tell him about the note. He'd probably have some good advice._

Finn grinned at the thought. He knew exactly what the ace pilot would say via his trusty computer pad: _Take the plunge and give her the letter, flyboy._

The ex-stormtrooper forced the note out of his mind temporarily and knocked on Poe's door. A cheerful blip from BB-8 ushered him in.

"Nice jacket…" Finn spouted his obligatory greeting and trailed off as soon as he entered the main living area of Poe's quarters. "What…?"

To be honest, it wasn't the _strangest_ thing Finn had glimpsed walking into Dameron's room unannounced.

Poe was sitting cross-legged, with a perfect posture and hands folded neatly, as if he was meditating. BB-8 was directly in front of him, poised and uncharacteristically taciturn. Then, as if Dameron was conducting an orchestra, he began signaling to the droid in a variety of quick and fluid movements, raising his hands up and down and creating shapes with them. BB-8 waggled its head playfully and spun around to face Finn, beeping rapidly in astromech. The Basic equivalent turned out to be:

-Greetings, Finn! How do you like my new interpreter?

Finn blinked; it took him a few seconds to realize what was going on, then his face lit up with a smile that Poe mirrored back at him.

"You taught BB-8 sign language!"

Poe nodded once and BB-8 automatically spun its head back to watch him as he continued gesturing with his hands. The droid beeped a response.

-The computer method of communication fatigued me.

Finn suppressed laughter at the droid's interpretation—trying to get past the formal language to grasp the meaning of what Poe was _actually_ saying.

Dameron sighed and tapped BB-8 on its shell. The droid chirped an apology and watched its companion before communicating more with Finn.

-It is a work in progress.

Finn chuckled. "I can see that. Poe, it's excellent! What do you think, BB-8?" He bent down and patted the droid on its head.

BB-8 cooed happily, running in small circles around the quarters in excitement. Poe heaved a sigh, exhaustion showing in lines on his face as he tried to get the droid's attention, but it was clearly on a mission to express its joy at learning a new skill. Dameron reached for the computer tablet Finn knew he loathed and typed out a message to show him.

STILL NEED TO TEACH BB-8 NEW WORDS ONCE I LEARN THEM.

Finn nodded, reaching forward to touch his friend's arm. "You all right?" The ever-present worry he felt for Poe reminded him that his friend was still recovering. "When was the last time you ate?"

Dameron shrugged. BB-8 picked up on the conversation and twittered, racing off to the nearest pantry, ever the mother hen, and returned with a piece of fruit in the grip of one of its metal claws. Poe took the food gratefully, mouthing a thanks.

Finn sat down across from him on the carpeted floor and admired the changes Poe had made to his quarters in the past month. Pictures of various sizes adorned each wall, filling up the space with smiling faces. Finn recognized some of them from Dameron's squadron. There were others too—one of a woman with black hair pulled back in a bun, ringlets framing her tan face. She wore a grey-green flight suit, and she was holding hands with a man also wearing a flight suit. He had short dark hair and a goatee, and the man looked strikingly like Poe. _His parents_ , Finn realized. He had never seen what they looked like before. The couple appeared in a close-up, standing in front of a lush forest. But what struck Finn the most about the photo was Shara Bey's smile. _I've seen that smile before._ Poe had revealed it to Finn after being rescued from Kylo Ren's clutches on the _Finalizer._

 _It's Poe's smile._

As Dameron munched on his snack and practiced more signs with BB-8, Finn continued admiring the decorations in Poe's quarters. There were numerous drawings of the orange and white droid. And beside one of the drawings of the astromech was a scribbly pixilated image of Dameron wearing his brown leather jacket, hair blowing in the wind. In the picture, Poe was standing in a field bursting with gold and lavender wildflowers.

"Who drew this one?" Finn pointed with his index finger.

Poe swallowed a bite of food and indicated his mechanical companion.

Finn gaped. "BB-8?"

Dameron signed to the droid, and BB-8 interpreted his message with bloops and blips.

-BB-8 adores flowers.

Poe wheezed with laughter, a dry rasping sound that made Finn's heart warm just hearing it. Dameron hardly ever laughed anymore.

Finn's eyes ran over other items in Poe's room: an iridescent seashell, a battered Resistance helmet. There were also collections of texts—poems—as well as flight manuals packed into a small bookshelf by his sofa. And then Finn was drawn to a picture of himself, Poe, and Rey. They were all sitting together at a table in the mess hall. It must have been taken about a month ago because Poe still looked thin, and his smile was almost non-existent. Judging by the low angle of the shot, BB-8 had been the photographer.

Finn stared at the picture with longing, remembering a time the three of them had been closer.

 _Rey._

Finn took a deep breath.

-What is wrong, my friend? came Poe's question through BB-8.

 _Tell him about the letter._

Finn said, "It has to do with Rey…"

Just then, the sound of sirens blared from the hallway outside. Alarms from the base. It could only mean one thing. Finn felt his heart stop.

They were under attack.

Poe exchanged a rapid glance with Finn before signing to BB-8.

-I thought you said this jacket was lucky.

"The jacket _is_ lucky!" Finn shouted over the alarms, but Dameron was already racing into another room, and came back with two blasters. He tossed one to Finn, and the ex-stormtrooper caught it easily. The warning bells rang jarringly in his ears, and he felt fresh adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Poe signed something to BB-8.

-Are we going to stand around, flyboy?

Dameron grinned— _like the smile on the woman in the picture_ —and held his blaster up as he exited his quarters, the astromech close on his heels.

"I think I liked you better before you became Poe's _mouth_ , droid!" Finn shouted after them.

Outside, the hallway was abandoned. Distant explosions caused Dameron to look back at Finn, worry tugging at his lips.

 _This is not happening. This can't be happening._ And then another horrifying thought flashed through Finn's mind.

"Where's Rey?" he screamed.

BB-8 beeped, its reply drowned out in the cacophony of alarms and nearby detonations.

Dameron paused to listen as the two hovered in the empty hallway. It was eerie, not knowing exactly what was going on. They needed to get to the hangar bay.

"If the First Order is attacking, they're going to go after our ships!" Finn called.

Poe listened intently, head cocked, then he shook it emphatically. The pilot held out two fingers and mimicked someone walking.

"A ground assault?" Finn cried. "Why?"

But the ex-stormtrooper didn't need to answer his own question. Finn remembered that most of the fleet had left days ago to scout locations for a new temporary base. There were very few ships left to target.

 _So what is the First Order after?_

When Dameron turned pale, Finn knew. _He_ was the biggest secret on the base, after all.

"They can have him!" Finn spat. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

Finn was about to race down the hall, but Dameron pushed into him, pressing a hand firmly against his chest.

"What?" Finn shouted. "We need to move out, Poe!"

BB-8 clicked at their heels, frantic, saying something over and over but Finn couldn't hear over the shriek of the alarms.

Red and white lights flashed across Dameron's face, and Finn finally realized the word he was mouthing, the same word the droid was saying.

 _Rey._

 _She's probably with Kylo Ren right now._

"All right," Finn shouted, voice hoarse above the noise. "We'll go to his cell and get her out!"

Dameron nodded quickly, and the two raced off. BB-8 careened down the hallway alongside them as they sprinted from one section of the base to the next, constantly on the alert for stormtroopers. Smoke became thicker as they reached the heart of the base, making them cough, and it only made Finn worry more for Rey's safety. What if she had been trapped in the one of the explosions?

A few hallways short of Kylo Ren's secret cell, the sound of blaster fire instantly caught their attention. Dameron crouched low, peering around a corner and waving Finn to come closer.

In a vast area that had once been used for storage prior to the base being abandoned, Rey was battling a dozen stormtroopers.

And she was doing a pretty good job of it.

Hiding behind a large barrel, the Jedi in training popped out at random intervals, sending red laser sparks from the bucketheads shooting backwards in the air towards their own blasters. Two white-suited soldiers attacked Rey at once, and she sent them sprawling with the blow from one fist.

"Do you think she needs any help?" Finn asked Poe.

Dameron's mouth hung open. BB-8 beeped with child-like awe.

"I mean, she hasn't even pulled out her lightsaber yet…"

Through the haze of smoke, Rey fought like a dancer, dodging blaster fire and crushing stormtrooper's helmets with her bare hands. Her jaw was clenched in a determined manner, and her eyes blazed with fire. Finn had never seen Rey in her element before, had never seen her completely utilize her abilities with the Force, and the sight was nothing short of incredible.

 _Go Rey!_

But almost as soon as Finn sent out his mental encouragement, Rey looked in their direction and spotted the trio.

"The _Falcon!"_ she roared across the warehouse. "Outside!"

Finn nodded, about to comply, when he heard Rey cry out. The few seconds she had taken to tell them where to go had been enough to distract her, and a stormtrooper that had remained concealed from their view came out of hiding and struck her down with the barrel of his weapon.

"REY!" Finn screamed.

Before Finn could lift his weapon, the stormtrooper who attacked Rey fell over backwards. Poe stood smoothly, his blaster smoking. The pilot looked over his shoulder at Finn, and the ex-stormtrooper could read his thoughts quite plainly because they echoed his own.

 _Let's get 'em._

* * *

Rey's felt something warm running down her forehead, and the sound of weapons firing became muted. She felt as if she was underwater, struggling to breathe, to get clear of the fog muddling her brain. Smoke from nearby explosions made her retch, and the movement forced her to fully come to. Although her eyes were watering, she took in the scene unfolding before her.

And as adamant as Rey often was that she could take care of herself in battle situations, she was certainly glad to have Finn and Poe pay her a visit.

The stormtrooper that attacked her had been shot down, and the remaining First Order goons suddenly found themselves surrounded by a triangle of Resistance fighters. Finn positioned himself in one corner, and Rey could make out flashes of his blaster fire through the haze. He shouted something that Rey couldn't make out, but she understood his gist as another stormtrooper on her left nearly knocked her down. She cried out, using his bulkiness to her advantage to sweep his feet out from under him. He landed with a crunch.

Rey winced, pressing a hand to her forehead; when she pulled her palm away it was covered in blood. Crouching down low behind a barrel, Rey ripped off a strip of fabric from her long sleeves and pressed the cloth to her head to staunch the bleeding. Her other hand hovered over the lightsaber in her belt just in case she needed it. Meanwhile, the number of stormtroopers steadily diminished as Finn and Poe worked together. Peeking around the corner of the storage container, Rey glimpsed Dameron edge closer to her location, moving stealthily as BB-8 trailed along behind him.

The Jakkunian gagged on smoke, muffling her coughs in her elbow and trying to steady her breathing. Waves of wooziness trailed from the cut on her head, eroding her thoughts.

 _Focus. Pay attention. You almost got yourself killed._

Moments later, the staccato of blaster fire ceased. Rey cautiously peered from her seclusion and tried to make out the figures of her friends through the haze. Then Rey felt a hand on her arm.

She nearly flipped Finn over as a reflex, but he cried out, "Woah woah woah!" Rey instantly released her grip on him. She could just barely make out his expression through the smog, his shaky grin.

"Nice to see you too."

Then she heard the persistent beeps of BB-8, and the droid whirled around her. Poe hovered over them, breathing heavily but unscathed. He held his blaster up and there was an intensity on his face Rey had not seen for a long time—a vitality in his eyes that was probably the most heartening thing she had witnessed all day. Dameron scoped out the scene, head darting left and right as he scanned the fallen stormtroopers before putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. His expression was full of worry.

Finn mirrored Poe's concern with words. "Are you all right, Rey?"

She withdrew a shaky hand from her forehead and noticed the cloth was soaked with crimson, but the wound seemed to have stopped bleeding. Rey breathed out, willing herself to find energy she did not possess to continue.

"'m fine," she murmured and stood slowly. Finn's and Poe's arms automatically shot out to stabilize her, but she swatted them away. Although her vision blurred, Rey was determined to continue.

Just then, the storage room shook, like a mini earthquake, rocking the foundations of the base. A resounding _boom_ echoed through the area, and a support beam tumbled down only a few feet behind the group of friends.

BB-8 emitted a warning shriek, and Rey swallowed bile rising in her throat.

"Let's go!" she cried, leading the group out of the room and down the hallway towards an exit. The beat of her heart pulsed in her head, and the world was too-bright, but Rey persevered. "We have to get to the _Falcon!"_

"If the _Falcon_ isn't blown to bits," Finn called in response.

When Rey looked back, Poe's somber countenance echoed her own doubts and fears. Han Solo's old ship was their only hope. A glimmer of light from an opening ahead spurred Rey on despite the ache in her head, but there was a lingering doubt in the back of her mind—something she had forgotten. Something extremely important.

The light beckoned her, but Rey stumbled. All of a sudden, a voice echoed in her head, so loud that it drowned out the rumble of distant explosions. The ground shook beneath her, and Rey clung to the wall for support as she felt her legs buckle.

 _-Ben!_

The voice was a shout reverberating through her consciousness.

"Rey!" she heard Finn's cry as if he was far away. Rey tried to respond to him but her words came out muffled and incoherent while the sounds in her mind rang with increasing clarity.

 _-Rey, you must save my son! Don't leave him behind. Please._

It was General Organa's voice.

Strong arms caught hold of Rey's shoulders before she hit the ground, sinking backwards with her so that she folded into whomever had caught her. Her hands were pressed to her head, and she moaned with the sensory overload. Faintly, she heard the concerned bleeps of BB-8.

 _-Promise me. You must save Ben!_

"Save…Ben," Rey repeated weakly, her vision blinking on and off.

"Rey, stay with us!"

As Leia's thoughts gradually ebbed in her mind, the real world slowly came back into focus.

"Open your eyes! C'mon, Rey!"

It was Finn.

The ground rocked beneath her, firm hands gripping her shoulders. She felt the kiss of cool metal touch her hand as she brought it away from her forehead, and Rey recognized BB-8's shell as it nudged her.

"Poe—do you think the med bay has been destroyed? We'll need a dermal regenerator for her forehead."

Rey shifted, her eyes flickering open. "There's one….in… _Falcon."_

Finn's face came into the center of her sight, flashing a nervous smile. "Rey!"

Someone squeezed her hand, and Rey finally comprehended exactly _where_ she was resting. Dameron must have been the one to catch her fall, and he was currently cradling her in his lap. For being in such an awkward position, Rey was surprised to feel so comfortable, albeit embarrassed.

She felt her face go hot, but Poe simply smiled down at her, allowing Rey to use his shoulders to pull herself into a sitting position. Finn was fussing over her, as usual, gesticulating with one free hand as the other held his weapon.

"Please don't scare me like that again."

BB-8 concurred with a serious twitter.

Rey cleared her throat, mustering strength she didn't have at the moment to stand. Dameron gripped one of her wrists, Finn stepping in to take the other, but she waved them both away again, using the wall for balance. Her legs were wobbly, but they would hold. For now. She swallowed on a dry throat, taking a deep breath and allowing herself to focus once more on the task at hand.

"What happened?" Finn asked at her side.

The scavenger knew that the Commander wouldn't like it. He wouldn't like it one bit, but it had to happen. And they didn't have much time…

She turned to face Finn. "We have to go back for Ben."

The ex-stormtrooper's face fell, matching BB-8's surprised mechanical response. Dameron was unreadable, but she could sense his fear at the mention of his childhood friend. Rey knew how the pilot felt; she was afraid too.

 _This might be the worst idea of all time…_

Rey's only consolation was that it _wasn't_ her idea, after all. Rather, it had been a command from a top leader of the Resistance.

Finn chose his words carefully. "Rey, you're hurt… You must have hit your head… The base is under attack. We need to leave—now!"

"Leia spoke to me," Rey said. "I heard her thoughts in my mind… She was pleading with me. We must try and save him."

Finn looked from Dameron to Rey, lips pursed. Rey could tell he was weighing their current options, and she anticipated his response before he spoke.

"No."

"The General must have evacuated the base before the attack," Rey argued. "She can't go back for him herself. _We_ have to do it."

"No!" Finn roared. "We're not going back for Kylo Ren! Let the First Order have him."

Rey shrank under the power of Finn's reply. Her head throbbed, and her knees shook as another explosion ripped through the base. She sympathized with Finn's point of view; it was (at the very least) extremely dangerous for her to rescue Ben Solo in the midst of an invasion, but their connection, the one she had spoken to Poe about, remained in her memory. Through all the horrors the man who had been Kylo Ren committed, she still saw a vulnerable human being, one who was starved for illumination.

 _If you want something done right…_

"Then I'm going alone," Rey said dully, and she began to walk away. Finn tried to catch her arm, but she dodged him unevenly until Dameron blocked her path. Rey immediately brought fist forward, prepared to fight him if necessary to get past. However, rather than lashing out, Poe used his hands to send a few quick signals to BB-8, and the droid beeped in astromech.

-I am going with you.

Rey felt a small glow inside her.

"What?!" Finn snapped. "Poe, are you nuts?!"

But Dameron's hands swept through the air in a series of movements, and BB-8 followed through on its interpretation.

-The First Order attacked for one reason, and that is to retain Kylo Ren. We must deny them that satisfaction. We must save Organa's son.

Rey could tell that Finn's patience was being pushed to the extreme, but the man eventually relented, his shoulders sagging in defeat. In that moment, Rey forgave him for putting Poe in danger and for not trusting her.

"All right. But if they already have Ren, we're _not_ going out of our way to recapture him."

Rey glanced at Poe, and the pilot nodded.

"Agreed," she said.

The group ran into brief skirmishes with small pods of stormtroopers along the way, but Finn and Poe were swift with their blasters, and Rey made sure she stayed out of their way. Her head was still fuzzy, but she had energy enough to lead the two men and droid down the path that had been one of her regular routes before Ben Solo had betrayed her by threatening Dameron.

This time, Rey took an alternate direction and pressed her hand against the back door to Ben's cell. This was the door Skywalker had utilized to administer Solo's medicine, as well as deliver food to his nephew. Her heart hammered in her chest as the floor vibrated beneath her. Sipping in the smoky air, Rey closed her eyes and visualized the door in her mind, revealing its locks and mechanisms. In one fluid movement, something _clicked_ , and the door swung open.

Rey entered the cell, seeing it for the first time through Ben's eyes. She was flanked on either side by Poe and Finn, BB-8 trailing cautiously behind her. At first, the piercing lights of the prison blinded her. She put up hands to block the brightness, and that's when her vision focused on the figure lying on the floor beside a small cot.

One shuddering thought raced through her: _He's dead._

TBC

 **A/N:** Thought I'd leave you with a little cliffhanger as my vacation draws to a close. Hope you're all having just as much fun reading this fic as I am writing it. Please please please let me know how I'm doing. On a side note—this has officially become the longest fanfic I've ever written! And I'm still having loads of fun playing with these characters. Happy Easter, and hope you all enjoy sweets (both cyber AND real) today!

~Ista ^_^


	17. Burning in Some Fire Fight

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 17: Burning in Some Fire Fight**

One shuddering thought raced through her: _He's dead._

Because the part of Ben Solo that had once been so vibrant and clear, resonating with the Force, was completely gone. It was as if he had been transformed into an entirely different person, one who was non-Force sensitive, like Finn or Dameron. And for someone who was usually such a strong receptor to all of a sudden have a mind as silent as the desert at night…

"Is he…?" Rey whispered in horror.

Finn shocked her by approaching Ben's body first. The two made a striking pair side by side, both wearing all black. Finn leaned over and prodded Solo with his blaster.

Rey was unaware she was holding her breath until Ben moaned and turned over. Poe gasped at her side, and Finn looked at the Jakkunian uncertainly.

"What's wrong with him?" the ex-stormtrooper muttered.

Rey stepped closer with bated breath, kneeling down, aware of the tension radiating from Finn's body, hands poised with his blaster, ready to fire if Solo so much as flinched.

"Ben," she whispered, trying to perceive his thoughts although they were clouded, as if someone had gone through his head and emptied it. She took his hand despite Finn's sour look. Eventually, the man revived, running a hand through his shoulder-length black hair.

"Rey…?" he mumbled, eyes unfocused, his words slurring. "Was 'ere an 'tack?"

The Jedi in training glanced around the cell, trying to keep herself from panicking. Her head ached constantly now, nausea rising up in the back of her throat that she had to swallow down.

She shook his shoulders more forcefully than she wanted to. "Ben, you need to tell us what's wrong. We've got to get out of here. There isn't much time!"

Solo's eyes rolled lazily around the cell, lips smacking. Eventually, he managed to get out: "Neurl… 'nhibtrs."

Rey's heart hummed in her chest. _Of course._ She should have known immediately and snapped her fingers at the small table in the corner of the cell, the container that rested on it. Dameron hurried over, never taking his eyes off Ben for one moment, and fetched the medicine bottle, giving it to Rey.

"How many of these did you take?" she insisted, shaking Ben roughly again when his eyes rolled back into his skull. Was this all an act? Rey was afraid it wasn't.

"What are those things?" Finn asked.

Dameron signed to BB-8 to identify the medicine, and the droid chirped a response.

-Neural inhibitors. They block the Force.

"T-two," Solo mumbled, head lolling from side to side.

"Ben," she warned, her voice rising in pitch and volume. Rey couldn't help but pinch the dark-haired man to get him to revive.

He groaned with the effort it took to open his eyes. "I swear…"

Rey rolled the container of medicine in her hands and shook it. There were several pills inside still, and she sensed no lie in his words. She would just have to trust him.

"And why would you need more than you have taken before?"

"Rey, we have to go!" Finn reminded her as the ground beneath them quavered.

Ben Solo took a shaky breath, his eyes finally focusing on her. "I couldn't… I just couldn't take… _He_ was there."

Rey's eyes widened. Ben had alluded to his waking nightmares before, but he had never told her specifically what haunted him.

"My father…"

A cold chill ran through Rey's bones, causing her to shiver, her head pulsing. Then she pulled Solo to his feet with a grunt.

"Can you stand?" she whispered to Ben as Finn and Dameron looked on the scene with increasing uncertainty. Rey just hoped she wasn't losing more of their trust in the process of taking the apprentice of the Dark Side in tow.

Solo was extremely unsteady, but he braced one leg against the small cot and clung to Rey's shoulders with an iron grip. He kept blinking rapidly, his breath heaving in and out.

"Not…going," he said as his eyes tried to concentrate on her and not wander.

"Oh _yes_ you are!" Finn growled, spinning Ben sideways to face him. "We don't have time for this. _C'mon!"_

Behind them BB-8 beeped to back up Finn's point. According to its calculations, they had less than five minutes before the entire base was completely overrun.

 _Starting to sound like the golden droid,_ Rey thought fleetingly.

Then Rey saw a glimpse of the old Ben Solo (of _Kylo Ren_ ) as his eyes flashed angrily at Finn, recoiling from the other man's touch.

"I know who those smugglers were," Ben said slowly, taking care to enunciate each syllable. Rey realized it was tremendously difficult work for him. "The ones your parents were after."

Finn shot a glance at the scavenger, questioning with his eyes, a look of uncertainness and betrayal so clear that Rey's heart might have started to crumble if her convictions of saving Ben weren't so strong.

"So come with us," she said evenly to Solo.

"No," Ben said, eyes glassy and far off. "Not without…my…freedom."

Finn took a deep breath as if to shout a tirade at Solo, but his self-control remained intact. He was leaving it up to Rey to decide, and for that she was very grateful.

"Sorry," she said, not missing a beat. "The deal's off. You're coming with us."

Ben was fuming now, his nostrils flared. In his expression, Rey caught a glimpse of what he must have looked like as a young boy when he didn't get his way, prone to pouting.

 _Another tantrum, Kylo?_

"You…think…'m weak," he slurred, pushing away from her. "But you… know…nothing."

Finn shouted out a warning, and Dameron reached forward to pull her away from Ben, but Rey held her ground, watching with pity as he flicked his wrist. It was a classic move to manipulate the Force. But, as expected, nothing happened, and Solo's grand exhibition caused him to fall backwards with the increased effort.

Rey caught him with a huff, but his added weight sent them both falling. Her head zinged with pain, and the brief contact in preventing Solo from hitting the floor had temporarily winded her. Ben moaned something incoherently.

Somewhere behind her, BB-8 stifled a twitter.

Finn's voice was beginning to sound even more panicked. "I am _not_ carrying him."

"Fine," Rey wheezed, gathering enough strength to force herself (as well as Ben Solo) upright and eventually standing. She propped up the taller man by his shoulders, leaning him against her side. His eyes fluttered shut, downcast and defeated.

 _At least he's not trying to fight back anymore._

"I've got him," she said, teeth grinding together. "As long as you keep any stormtroopers off my back."

Poe stooped down and pocketed the container of neural inhibitors before nodding to Finn, and the foursome exited the claustrophobic cell, staggering right and left as the base rumbled.

 _It hasn't collapsed yet_ , Rey thought, hoisting Ben Solo into a vertical position as he sagged against her side. I _haven't collapsed yet._

And that meant the stormtroopers hadn't entirely infiltrated the area. It meant the _Falcon_ could still be intact.

So they tumbled forward. Rey reached out to balance against the walls of the corridor as the floor rocked beneath her. Everything was jumbled together, her head spinning as she tried to keep Solo on his feet. It was strange—so strange to have him physically close to her. This man she had once viewed as a monster, then an ally who betrayed her. But as his body hung limply in her embrace, Ben Solo mumbled nonsensically, a mixture of apologies and fragments of fears.

 _Careful, Ben. Your humanity is showing._

Rey wiped sweat and blood-encrusted ringlets of hair from her face. _Careful, Rey. He's got a long way to go._ She glanced at BB-8, cooing at Finn's heels as his boots clicked cleanly in front of her. Besides, who said that "humanity" was the last word in compassion? Last time Rey had checked, BB-8 had more empathy than Ben Solo ever did.

Three stormtroopers ahead caught them unawares, but Finn and Poe were ready. Rey sucked in a deep breath, pressing her back to the nearest wall and pulling Ben Solo with her as he lurched forward from momentum. His legs entangled with hers, but she managed to keep him still just as blaster fire zinged past his ear.

"Poe!" Finn cried as he was inundated with lasers. Immediately, Dameron leapt in front of Rey and Solo, pushing BB-8 behind with with one foot to block the droid from harm. Standing at Finn's side, he squatted down in a fighting stance, raising his blaster and ducking enemy fire. Again, Rey felt that she was seeing her friends in another element now, a fresh light. They were strong in a different way than she was. And maybe they couldn't access the Force outside their own dreams, but they were still apart of it. In less than three minutes, the duo had defeated the stormtroopers.

Finn sagged against the wall like Rey, his head bowed. Poe placed a hand on his chest, and the two silently exchanged shared grief. Finn had once been one of those white bucketheads, after all. Did it hurt him to kill those whom he might have known?

Ben moaned beside her again, his head drooping and resting in the nape of her neck. All too aware of how much time was running out, Rey attempted to right herself so they could continue, but something _surged_ through her, a debilitating ripple of lethargy, as if she was coming down with a virus.

"Something's wrong," she managed to say thickly.

 _What's going on?_

It was more than her head injury. It was a precursor to something… Rey just didn't know what.

"Rey?" Finn's voice through the frenzy of shattered glass and explosions.

"Something's wrong," she repeated, and then she was falling _down down down._

This time it was the ex-stormtrooper who caught her.

* * *

Poe saw Rey fall, but Finn got to her first. BB-8 was crying through the clamor. There had been too much excitement for the droid.

 _Right there with ya, buddy._

He knelt beside the two as Finn supported Rey. In the scuffle, Ben Solo had slid to the floor, where he lay motionless. But Finn was obviously unconcerned with the man formerly known as Kylo Ren. All of his attention was on the female scavenger. Her eyes were only half open, and blood was streaming down her forehead again from the wound that hadn't healed. Finn cupped Rey's chin in his hand.

"Poe…What's wrong with her?"

Dameron was used to experiencing terror, but he was not accustomed to seeing it reflected in his best friend's eyes. Aside from the gash on her head, Poe couldn't detect anything else out of the ordinary about Rey. No wonder Finn was past plain fear. But Poe had a hunch what was going on, and he signed to BB-8 to interpret.

-Maybe it has to do with the Force.

Finn's eyes were shiny with worry, but he took Rey's hand to hold onto her and began to move forward. That left Poe and BB-8 with Solo's immobile form.

And the weird thing was, it didn't feel that unusual to Dameron when he reached down and heaved Ben upright, arms outstretched and locked around the other man's shoulders. It just happened. And Poe was suddenly the closest he had ever gotten to the man who had been the star of so many of his nightmares for the past few months, but it was necessary.

Because Poe knew they had to save Ben Solo. Save him from the Dark Side, from the First Order, from Snoke. Above all, they had to save him from himself.

So Dameron took a deep breath and pretended that he was young again and Ben was only five or six. He thought back to that crazy afternoon when he had helped Solo down from the tree. Ben had been so afraid; this time, it was Poe who terrified.

 _One step at a time._

"You all right?" Finn shouted back at him.

Poe shook his head honestly, because Finn couldn't see him and wouldn't look back anyway.

 _I'm going to need therapy sessions after this. Lots of therapy sessions._

Just at that moment, Ben's hand latched onto the lapel of Poe's jacket, although his eyes remained closed. It was as if the younger man was subconsciously trying to help Poe. And it took every ounce of Dameron's self-control not to cry out from Ben's touch. Because when Solo touched him, it _burned._

 _I don't get paid enough for this job._

A small rectangle of light beckoned to them in the distance; they were nearly outside. Up ahead, Finn struggled to control a wriggling Rey.

"Don't…hold…my…hand," Poe heard her say weakly.

Suddenly they heard the clatter of boots and Dameron looked back to find another group of stormtroopers after them. BB-8 squealed and careened in front of Poe and Ben.

"Okay, fine," said Finn and promptly scooped Rey into his arms and started running. Rey protested, but it was clear Finn was having none of it.

"Double standards," she muttered.

As Dameron began shuffling into an awkward run behind Finn and the droid, Solo seemed to regain some of his senses. His head swiveled back to the stormtroopers, and a funny little cackle croaked from the back of his throat.

 _He's lost it. He's actually insane._

It was a bizarre scenario, running away from the First Order with Kylo I-Kid-You-Not Ren in tow. And the guy wasn't even trying to stop his own kidnapping. Or was it technically extraction?

Dameron was getting tired of running with the extra weight, so he was oh-so relieved when Ben Solo started actually using his legs instead of flopping them to and fro.

However, Poe was _not_ enthused when Ben opened his mouth again.

"Helllooo." Ben drawled out the words, and Dameron wasn't sure if he was doing it on purpose or if it was an effect of the neural inhibitors. Or both. Either way, it was damn annoying.

"Fancy meeting you again," Solo continued, gripping his jacket tighter. "You left so suddenly last time—we didn't have time to chat."

 _Just think about something else. Anything else. Get to the_ Falcon _. The_ Falcon.

Blaster fire ripped past them, leaving scorch marks on the walls.

"Cor got your tongue?" Ben purred in his ear.

Dameron fought the urge to throw Solo down and leave the disgraced First Order apprentice right then and there.

 _So close. Almost there._

"I'm really offended that you're ignoring me when we're so close, Poe. Like the old days…"

And then they were outside, free of the cloying darkness and flashing red lights of the base. But they emerged into a green field of chaos. Sporadic fire blazed. A mixture of Resistance fighters and stormtroopers clashed in violent bursts. Several rebel vessels were taking off as more TIE Fighters set down.

In a (relatively) quiet corner loomed the _Millennium Falcon._ Before Chewbacca had taken off with Skywalker, Poe had seen the Wookie making some final updates and repairs. As if he knew what was going to happen.

The four humans and droid raced to the ship's ramp, ducking enemy fire. Dameron kept thinking that it was a miracle they had made it this far. Especially hauling Mr. Talkative alongside. Indeed, Ben Solo's verbal barrage had not let up, even upon entering his father's legendary ship.

"This isn't the Poe I used to know," Ben continued, the slur in his voice diminishing.

Dameron's lungs burned from the effort of dragging Solo with him, so it was a relief when he deposited the ex-Dark Lord on the floor of the _Falcon_ directly behind the pilots' chairs. BB-8 beeped with approval, and Ben rubbed his knees with a sulky look.

"Touchy," he said.

"Shut up!" Finn said curtly, setting Rey gently beside Solo on a chair and strapping her in. He faced Dameron, and his expression was grave.

"Can you fly this thing?"

Poe wanted to say: _I can fly anything_. But the truth was that he _hadn't_ flown so much as an airspeeder in weeks. He had always wanted to pilot the _Falcon_ , but Dameron was nervous about it.

 _However, the alternative is…_

Dameron nodded and proceeded to sit in the co-pilot's seat. As he buckled himself in, his hands were shaking. He tried to focus, to breathe in and out, but the truth was that he was afraid. Afraid of failing. And falling, strangely enough. Falling out of the sky…

"It's _my_ ship!" Rey said, her voice a fraction of its normal volume. She was fidgeting with her seatbelt, trying to get free.

Finn soothed her, placing a hand on the Jakkunian's head. "Just relax. You're not well. Poe and I can handle it."

Dameron's hands skirted across the control console as a mini explosion rocked the ship. His hands tapped on the panel impatiently.

 _Time to go, Finn. Now._

As if he read his mind, the ex-stormtrooper nearly leapt into the seat next to his, whirling around, fingers flying across the panel.

"I always wanted to pilot this thing," Finn muttered, a side note. "I just never thought it would be like this… You know?"

 _Oh, I know, pal. I know._

Dameron forced himself to breathe, folding his hands in his lap to try and massage them together to prevent their constant trembling. Finn couldn't see him like this. Not right now.

 _This is the worst time…_

Then Finn's hand slid across the console, fingers flicking random switches, and the engines began to hum.

"Here goes nothing."

A gentle roar, and they were hovering in the air. Sporadic blaster fire ricocheted against the hull, and then they were floating above the trees on D'Qar, swaying in the wind and gusts of hot air from the fires. For a moment, Poe imagined that he was practicing flying on Yavin 4. For just one moment, he felt at peace.

And then: "We're gonna crash!" Finn cried against a furious set of blips from BB-8. The ex-stormtrooper's hands seemed to be pushing buttons at random on the control panel. "We'regonnacrashwe'regonnacrashwe'regonnacrash."

If Poe bit his lip any harder, he would have drawn blood. Then his hands felt for the controls, and he guided the _Falcon_ up in a gentle arc, narrowly avoiding a nearby mountain, lush with forest and a crystal waterfall. Dameron couldn't tell what Ben and Rey were doing behind them, but he trusted that BB-8 was keeping an eye on the two.

Finn let out a whoop and took over from Poe, blasting the ship into D'Qar's atmosphere and Poe felt weightless for a brief instant as the _Falcon_ kissed the sky, dipping low drunkenly before soaring past the rim of the planet's exosphere and into space. Stars spun in dizzying circles, and Poe settled back in his chair with a rush of oxygen. He saw red for an instant, his entire body at once wired and utterly exhausted. Finn was slapping him on the back, and BB-8 danced in tiny loops at their feet. Below them in the view-screen was the enormous blue and green globe of D'Qar, ensconced within wisps of milky-white clouds.

"Hurray," came Ben's sarcastic response behind him.

"It's the jacket, right?" Finn said with a wide grin, ignoring Solo.

Poe shrugged, beaming back at him, head bowing in relief.

Then a small voice said, "They're coming."

It was Rey. Finn snapped his head so quickly back at the view-screen that Dameron was afraid he got whiplash. When Poe joined them, maneuvering the ship into a position facing away from the verdant planet, a not-so-welcome sight greeted them.

A First Order cruiser ate up their view-screen, blocking out stars. But the massive ship was the least of their worries. Like hornets, a squadron of TIE fighters spread out from the cruiser, closing in on them with rapid fire from their laser cannons. Red bursts of light began to pummel them, and Poe shook in his seat.

"Gotta get to the gunner!" Finn screamed and fled his seat, careening down the hallway, nearly tripping over BB-8 in the process. The droid chirped an alarm, and Poe consciously closed his jaw after it dropped at the onslaught.

 _Think. You can get through this._

But he wasn't sure if he would.

Blasts from the _Falcon_ ran parallel with Finn's shrieks as he picked off one fighter at a time. Meanwhile, Poe engaged in a series of evasive maneuvers, looping wildly as he became accustomed to the _Falcon's_ helm. Under Dameron's piloting skills, the ship dipped and swooped out of harm's way, swinging wide around the circumference of D'Qar, losing their pursuers along the black curtain of space. When they had eventually lost the group of TIEs, Finn rejoined them and pulled Poe into a merciless hug.

"We did it!" Finn exclaimed.

From their position, it was possible to view the remaining fighters re-group in the shadow of the gigantic Cruiser. No other rebel vessels were in sight; they must have been the last ones to leave.

Poe was so caught up in the surging joy of _finally_ flying again that he almost forgot about the secret the First Order had been looking for in the first place. Until the "secret" cleared his throat, that is.

"Nothing to say about your triumphant escape, Poe?"

Finn rolled his eyes as the two turned to Ben Solo. "Leave him alone."

"Didn't know Traitor spoke for you these days, Dameron."

Just then, the man who used to be Kylo Ren let out a high-pitched screech as BB-8 shocked him in the side. This provoked action sent Finn into a fit of uproarious giggles, and even Poe had to stifle a soundless laugh. Ben scowled, lunging for the droid, but BB-8 was too savvy and quickly wheeled behind Finn. Once the hilarity of the situation was over, Finn sobered and shook his head at the First Order's fallen prince.

"Poe can't talk. Not after what Hux did to him."

 _What you_ let _him do to me,_ Poe thought. The comment was implied yet remained unspoken.

Just then, an encrypted communication came in from secure channels. It had been sent about a half hour ago but was only now transmitted. Once BB-8 helped them decode it, they played the message. It was General Organa—sounding tired, her voice hoarse.

"Rendezvous point on planet of Devaron. Resistance base established on planet's surface."

Finn sat forward in his seat, focused on the view-screen. "Sounds like a plan. Shall we?"

Poe nodded, making the computations for a smooth leap into hyperdrive.

"Punch it!" Finn said.

Dameron had heard tales of the the _Millennium Falcon's_ temperamental hyperdrive and penchant for _not_ working whenever it was needed the most. Luckily, the hyperdrive did not live up to its legend that day because the stars around them suddenly trailed into streaks of silver, and Poe was pinned to his seat as the ship's engines roared, leaping forward. Just as they entered hyperspace, Poe heard Rey cry out.

"NO!"

Finn and Dameron had forgotten her in the frenzy of the moment, but then the scene surrounding Devaron unfolded before them like a horror holovid, and Rey's scream was forgotten.

The Resistance ships and fighters had received the message to rendezvous loud and clear.

But so had the First Order.

 _How could they have…?_

On the outskirts of the fray, Dameron watched helplessly as X-Wings burst into fire-bright flames, spiraling into space. It was an ambush, and it was a bloodbath.

"No…" Finn whispered, mirroring Rey's outcry.

Ben Solo was uncharacteristically quiet from behind them, but no one had turned to check on Rey. Poe realized that she had unbuckled herself somehow because all of a sudden her hand was on the back of his seat. Dameron looked at her with terror in his eyes when he saw how pale she was—her skin the color of porcelain, almost translucent, contrasting eerily with the crusted rusty stain of blood running down one side of her face. He could see the veins pulsing in her neck, and Rey's eyes were strangely unfocused, taking in the sights.

"Something's wrong," she said, her voice eerily childlike.

"Rey…" Finn countered.

Just then, an explosion rocked an area of space close by. Dameron instinctively drew the _Falcon_ away from the blast. He had barely caught what kind of ship had been blown to bits, but it looked like a transport vessel. _One of ours._

Rey only spoke one word: "Luke."

Finn swore, BB-8 whimpered, and Ben sat silently, perhaps in shock. Poe's hands were still shaking, but his reflexes were quick enough to catch Rey before she hit the floor of the _Falcon._

TBC

 **A/N:** Surprise! Special thanks to EVERYONE who has reviewed so far! Love you all! Please let me know what you think as I continue this story into uncharted territory.


	18. When the Night is Cold and Dark

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 18: When the Night is Cold and Dark**

The world was distorted, and Rey breathed in fear. Fragments of feeling came to her, flashes of sight. Someone was cradling her, another person asking—no— _demanding_ to know what was wrong. She wanted to tell them everything she was experiencing, but Rey could only manage tears, slipping warmly down the sides of her face.

It was all too much to take in.

In that moment, just outside the attack, Rey Kenobi felt every heart that stopped beating, every cry that was silenced. She heard every soul rustle, like a feather, a flames flickering until they were suddenly, irrevocably extinguished. All of this residual energy now bombarded her senses, impairing her vision, impeding her speech. Her legs could have belonged to a mannequin on a far-away planet.

And, above all the terror and anguish of the lives (Resistance _and_ First Order) that were stolen before the massive sphere of Devaron, it was _one_ soul in particular that Rey felt the strongest connection to.

Luke Skywalker's life force called out like a shockwave, breaking down Rey's barriers, obliterating carefully-placed mental blocks she had established through her most recent Jedi training. Like a tsunami, the verdict rang clear: Something terrible had happened to Master Luke.

 _And Chewie,_ her muddled mind thought. The Wookie had gone with him. They left on the transport vessel. _The one that had just blown up._

"Rey!" someone's voice said urgently, but the sound reached her ears like waves lapping on a distant shore. "Rey, come back to us!"

She recognized the voice, but it took time to remember, to sift through the pain and hurt of battle.

"Finn?"

Someone else squeezed her hand, someone who had held her before.

"Poe?"

"She's coming around…" A new voice, one that took her slightly longer to remember because it was associated with a part of her she didn't care to acknowledge, a darker side.

"Ben?"

Yet _another_ voice echoed through the diaspora of sight and whirling colors—this one not human, but its comments displayed as much emotion as a person of flesh and blood.

"BB-8!"

Something cool and metallic brushed across her hand.

"Rey, what did I tell you about scaring us?" It was Finn again. "Snap out of it!"

A hand ran over her forehead, avoiding the cut that alternated between stinging and numb. Beneath her, Poe's body shifted slightly, trying to rouse her into waking.

How could she possibly make them understand that this wasn't her choice? She didn't ask to be one of the "precious few" who were Force sensitive, who sublimated others' agony.

"It's Skywalker, isn't it?" Finn asked. Rey wasn't sure if his question was directed at her or to everyone.

There was a pause, and Rey could only hear the sound of distant explosions and Dameron's heart beating through his slippery leather jacket as one of her ears pressed against it.

"Is he dead?" Ben's voice was tired and (Could it be possible?) sad.

Rey's ears rang, and she winced, pressing her hands up. A new voice called to her, but this time the sound was in her mind.

Rey cried out—a strangled gasp.

It was Luke.

"Rey!" Finn called, the sound quieting and echoing as if from several rooms away. "What's happening to her?"

She heard one word before her senses were swept away to a new vision.

 _-See._

Suddenly, Rey was in another spacecraft. She had no physical form but seemed to float in the air, hovering above the action. A cloaked figure was led down a dark corridor, flanked by stormtroopers, hands behind their neck. The bucketheads kept glancing at each other, and although their expressions were unseen, Rey would have bet their faces wore bewilderment and awe. A growl behind the hooded figure, rebellious and frustrated.

 _Chewbacca!_

The Wookie's massive frame was guided by two stormtroopers as well, his wrists tied together in front of him. Rey could have sworn she saw Chewie roll his eyes, as if to say: _Here we go again._

Rey knew who the cloaked person was, but she didn't want to believe it. What was worse? Knowing Luke Skywalker was dead or knowing Luke Skywalker was in the hands of the First Order?

Her Master's face was revealed when a lieutenant drew back his hood, white plastic hand jutting out and instantly retracting, as if the stormtrooper was afraid of touching the legendary Jedi.

And there he stood, proud and defiant. He even had a smirk on his face.

Rey was screaming, calling out to him.

 _Why? Why did you have to let them capture you?_

Because this was a joke. This was all a joke. Didn't they realize that Master Luke could crush them all with a spasm of one of his little fingers? And he and Chewie could be free. Rey was confused. As the vision spun, focusing in and out, she was _angry_ with her Master. He was supposed to stick around a little longer, after all. He was supposed to _help_ her. It was as if Luke _wanted_ her to rescue him. As if he was _defying_ her own weakness, egging her on.

When the First Order goons forced one of the most powerful men in the galaxy to kneel, like a common criminal, and while they shackled his hands, Rey cried out in desperation. She called out with her mind across space.

 _We will save you!_

And, immediately, because he must have sensed her presence, Skywalker looked up, his hair unkempt, eyes red, and stared directly at her, as if he was looking through her soul. The stormtroopers forced him to kneel, but he maintained eye contact.

- _Save Ben._

Rey was confused, thrown off by the sudden message from her mentor. So he repeated the statement.

 _-I tried to save him, but I couldn't. You have that chance._

Rey swallowed as voices from the other side (reality) threatened to break the connection with her teacher.

 _What if I can't?_

Then Rey saw a needle jabbed into Skywalker's neck, and the older man grimaced, sliding away into darkness. Simultaneously, Rey felt a red-hot rage course through her veins, spiraling into hatred, creating a pulsing itch emanating from her skull. Unconsciously, Rey began scratching at the hatred as it leaked out of her forehead, trying to stymie it before it got loose. As she did this, a voice from before her vision grew louder, alarmed.

"What's she doing? Rey! Stop!"

As other hands grappled with her, she was acutely aware of another's voice whispering into her ear. His words were soothing and serene. They offered peace that Rey could not hope to obtain on her own. Not after all she had seen. Not today.

 _-Sleep. Sleep, now. Just sleep._

And, for the second time in her life, Rey allowed herself to fall under the spell of Ben Solo.

* * *

Ben was thankful for Kylo Ren in that moment. He was thankful that a part of himself could still be decisive and be thrown into action. He was thankful that his senses were slowly returning enough to help Rey when she began to harm herself, fighting against Dameron's and Finn's arms to tear at the already-bloody wound on her head.

He didn't wish to look inside her mind this time; Ben merely wished her to escape it.

And Solo succeeded. In one breath, with one wave of his hand, Rey's crimson-stained fingers fell away lifelessly, body sinking back into Poe's arms, eyes closed.

Meanwhile, the battle raged all around them. Burned-out TIE fighters and X-Wings jumbled together in a spinning carnage across the view-screen. Finn was hunched over in the pilot's seat. Dameron cradled Rey's sleeping form, her face slick with sweat and pale, Solo kneeling beside her. In this moment, Ben wanted to feel excited, but he felt sick instead.

So he took a chance.

"Let me have Rey," he said to Poe, barely above a whisper. "I'll heal her."

Finn's lips pursed. The _traitor_ was uncertain of him—an understatement. The traitor didn't _trust_ him. But Ben didn't give a damn about that, or Finn, or anything for that matter. Except Rey…

Poe looked at Finn questioningly. How strange the emotion streaming from the pilot's eyes. Without the ability to vocalize, Dameron was a changed being. In some ways, he was purer…

Finn reluctantly nodded, and Solo gently took Rey from Dameron's arms. What was Finn going to do, after all? Give the helm to Poe? If Ben had noticed the pilot's shaking hands, certainly his best buddy had. And Finn _certainly_ wasn't going to give up the ship to _him._ After a smooth transfer, Ben carefully transported Rey to a foldable cot several feet behind the cockpit. Just holding her sent shivers shooting up and down his spine. Her head tilted back, her arms limp. Rey seemed so fragile then. Solo knew it was the bloodshed he couldn't feel that had pushed her over the edge.

Dameron faced the view-screen again while Ben rummaged for a dermal regenerator in a box of miscellaneous medical equipment. Poe had a determined look on his face despite the tremble of his frame, and he made a move to fly straight into the worst of the conflict.

"Hold up," Finn said, applying evasive maneuvers and retreating. The traitor kept looking back over his shoulder at Rey, hesitating. Solo knew what he was thinking. How much help could they give the Resistance at this point? They had arrived too late to stop the battle, and if they entered into it now…

Poe threw his hands up in frustration, and Finn seemed genuinely shocked by the other man's reaction. Dameron quickly gesticulated with his hands in the direction of BB-8, and the droid chirped out a response.

-Those are my friends out there!

Solo paused. He'd never seen anything like _that_ before. A droid communicating for a person?

"They're my friends too, Poe! But we can't do anything now. Not without endangering Rey…"

Another frantic series of gestures from Poe. Ben couldn't find the dermal regenerator anywhere, and Rey's head continued to ooze blood. BB-8 beeped emphatically.

-What if Skywalker is dead? He cannot die in vain.

"Just slow down!" Finn yelled. "We don't know anything yet. If we rush into things—"

-You do not trust me.

Dameron glowered, arms crossed. It was clear that he felt he was in the right. Who was the _traitor_ to order him around anyway, shaky hands or no? Last time Ben Solo had checked, Poe Dameron was the best pilot in the Resistance fleet. But now he was subordinate to Finn?

"Sorry to interrupt your little disagreement, gentlemen, but I can't find the stupid dermal regenerator…"

Both Finn and Poe instantly turned their attention to him, but at that moment Solo heard a whistle, and the little orange and white droid was holding out the medical instrument to him with one of its metal claws. At first, Ben hesitated, remembering all to clearly the shock that BB-8 had given to him just minutes earlier. But BB-8 held out the instrument eagerly, with no malice or ill will, and Ben took the tool gratefully, scanning the cut on Rey's forehead, watching the blue-green waves gradually heal her cut until it vanished, leaving no trace of a scar. Ben set the tool aside where BB-8 swiftly picked it up and deposited it back in the box of medical equipment. He examined Rey's sleeping form, completely aware that Finn and Poe were watching his every movement. With that, Solo stood up, only wavering slightly once he was on his feet. As he approached the two seated men, he was more aware of their energy, how they were forming a dangerous triangle of fighting ideologies and interests.

Then a new transmission came through the _Falcon_ 's audio, breaking the palpable tension. Ben wondered why he was so surprised that it belonged to his dearest mother.

Through sporadic crackles and static, the three pieced together her message: Get the hell away from Devaron. Rendezvous at a later time, place to be announced.

Ben said the words before his brain attempted to filter them: "We should go to Nar Shaddaa."

Dameron and Finn swiveled around in their seats simultaneously to glare at him. While Poe seemed frustrated, Finn's eyebrows raised with the universal look for _are you out of your mind?_

"And why should we do that?" Finn snapped.

Ben took a deep breath, focusing. "Because the three of us only have one thing in common…"

When Solo didn't finish his comment, Finn leaned forward, still pessimistic. "And that is…?"

Ben was about to speak, but Dameron beat him to it, pointing to Rey's still form. Finn followed his friend's gesture and realization seeped into his eyes.

Solo anticipated Finn to be angry. He did _not_ anticipate the ex-stormtrooper to launch himself out of his seat and pummel into him. In a single instant, Ben was pressed against a wall of the _Falcon_ , head knocking sharply into the hard paneling. One of Finn's arms was pressed into his abdomen, the other cut into his neck, choking him. Although shocked, Ben was more pleased at the outburst than anything, and he felt himself smiling. Somewhere behind them, the droid was squealing.

"You expect me to believe that you _care_ about her like _we_ do?" Finn roared, shoving Ben into the wall for a second time. "After all you've done to _me_ and _Poe?_ I should have left you behind when I had the chance. And wipe that _grin_ off your face before I permanently damage it!"

Poe left the controls (the consummate peacekeeper) to grab at Finn's arms and pry him away. Finn was stronger than Dameron, but he allowed the pilot to lead him away, tugging at his arms to placate him. Finn huffed out. Solo coughed momentarily, rubbing his throat where bruises must have been forming from Finn's assault.

 _Temper, temper._ Solo secretly loved violent outbursts. When Kylo had enjoyed them, it wasn't much of a secret.

Finn threw himself into the pilot's chair, the battle dissolving in the view-screen before him. Poe stayed standing between Solo and the ex-stormtrooper, ready to pull them apart again if necessary. He threw up his hands at Solo, and Ben took it as a signal to explain himself.

"Rey was looking for the whereabouts of her parents, and I know where they went to search for the thieves who stole from a Jedi Temple years ago. Nar Shaddaa."

Poe signed quickly to BB-8, and the droid translated in astromech.

-I do not follow you. Her parents are dead, most likely. And you tell us you want to flee from the First Order by visiting the most notorious smuggler's paradise in the galaxy?

Finn scoffed at Poe's message, reiterating the pilot's main point. "Not a great hiding spot."

Ben Solo set his jaw firmly, not impatient with the traitor, but ready to play his card. It was a good card, and it was the only one he had. By playing it, he sought to give Rey what she wanted as well as satisfy his own desires and regain a position of power within the First Order.

If the nightmares didn't kill him first.

"I know what the robbers took," Ben said softly. "What Rey's parents were after."

Poe moved his hand in a circular motion. _Go on._

Solo sipped a breath. "A holocron. A holocron that prophesied the most powerful weapon known to the Jedi Council. This weapon was meant to kill Snoke and restore balance to the galaxy."

If it wasn't for the remnants of a dying battle before them, and the humming of his father's old ship, complete silence would have reigned in the cockpit of the _Millennium Falcon._ Dameron appeared stunned, his mouth open in surprise. Finn was less impressed.

"You're lying."

"Why would I do that?" Solo shot back at the ex-stormtrooper, throwing his hands up. "What would I have to gain?"

Ben attempted a lower-lip quiver and forced his eyelids to flutter. The picture of _innocence_. He wasn't sure what that word really meant anymore, but he knew that these gestures used to win instant sympathy from his mother. And Poe. And anyone else who would pay attention to him when he was young.

 _-I suppose that wouldn't include me._

No matter how hard Ben was trying to feign weakness, he didn't have to act when the ghost of his father materialized in front of him, life-like, like a live holo projection; Ben jumped at Han Solo's sudden presence, shivering dramatically.

Finn's eyes narrowed, puzzled at Ben's reaction, but he swiveled in his seat to Dameron.

"What do you think? You buy it?"

 _-I'm sorry I wasn't there for you more. I should have been there._

Han Solo's voice was gentle and sorrowful. His eyes seemed to stare through Ben's head and out the other side.

 _Go away,_ Ben thought desperately. _Just go away._

Dameron cupped his chin in one hand, thinking quietly before nodding his head at Finn.

 _-I can't do that,_ his father said in his mind. _I won't leave until you understand how sorry I am. Until you forgive me._

But it should have been the other way around. And _that's_ what was tearing at Ben Solo's sanity. Try as he might, Ben couldn't help but flinch when the hallucination brushed his arm.

 _Keep it together. Just a little longer._

And then Finn turned to the control panel, flicking a series of switches.

"All right. We'll go to Nar Shaddaa. But we wait for Rey to make the first move. Agreed?" Finn glanced sharply back at Solo.

Ben stuttered: "A-agreed." Beside him, his father hovered silently, observing Poe and Finn as they worked where he had spent so much of his time. BB-8 wheeled through the translucent figure without so much as a blip.

"Ben."

Han Solo clapped his hands silently. _–Do you remember when I taught you how to fly this old rust bucket? It seems just like yesterday when Chewie and I were… Wait._ He paused. – _Where's Chewie?_

"Ben!"

Solo's head snapped to Finn where the ex-stormtrooper was looking at him strangely. "Find a seat and make sure Rey is buckled in. We're making the jump to lightspeed."

"Y-yes. Of course," he muttered, staggering past his father's visage to make sure Rey was securely protected. He squeezed her arm without meaning to, wishing that she would wake up and read his mind and realize that he was being haunted by his own father. But Rey didn't stir, and Han Solo kept talking.

 _-I'll bet the hyperdrive won't work. It never worked for me. No matter how many hours Chewie and I spent trying to fix it. I used to think the Wookie was just playing a drawn-out prank on me. But that was when I believed in luck._

Ben gasped as he was pressed back in his seat with the force of the leap. Ethereal, the figure of his father stayed exactly where he was, floating in space as stars criss-crossed and spread outwards in never-ending light trails from the view-screen. In a matter of seconds, they were among the Outer Rim Territories, looking down at the dark and golden globe, lights from the moon's massive cities visible from space.

"Let's find a quiet spot to rest for a while," Finn said softly. Poe complied, fingers flying across the control panel. The _Falcon_ flew under his guidance far enough away from the smuggler's moon to be within its sight but far from common shipping routes and out of other ships' paths. While Dameron maneuvered the _Falcon_ , Finn sent communications to the Resistance, (or what was left of it) informing them of their temporary location.

Rey stirred beside him, and Ben jumped again at the sound of his father's voice.

 _-Your mother knew that you two would meet eventually. Kenobi's granddaughter wasn't meant to live on Jakku forever. She's too much like her mother…_

Ben attempted to shut his eyes tightly in the hope that his father would disappear, but when he opened them, Han Solo was kneeling in front of him, immaterial hands resting on Ben's knees, imploring.

 _-I know you're trying to help her. Because she helped you. It's why you can't bear to look at me. You're_ changing _, Ben._

Solo moaned, eliciting side-long glances from the men in the pilot seats, but he didn't care what they thought at that moment. He just wanted the nightmare to end.

"What's wrong with him?" Finn muttered.

Poe shrugged as Solo approached him. Ben pressed his hands to his head as it began to throb and ache.

"P-please," he whispered to Dameron. "Neural inhibitors. I…I need them. Now."

Dameron looked to Finn for guidance, but the traitor merely shrugged, too busy keeping an eye on Rey and performing diagnostics at the same time.

 _-Son…_

Ben could feel the ghostly touch of his father's hand on his shoulder. He couldn't bare the thought of turning around to find him there again. Solo was afraid that if he did, his heart might stop.

"Please," he mumbled again, the word barely audible.

Poe hesitated, but then BB-8 beeped authoritatively. Ben, temporarily distracted from his dead father's vision, followed Dameron's gaze downwards to the little white and orange droid.

The astromech message it spouted was clear:

-Ben Solo hurts. Ben Solo helped Rey. Give Ben Solo the medicine.

Ben was speechless for one of the first times in his life. He didn't know what to say to BB-8, and he didn't know what to say to Poe when his childhood friend gave him the bottle of pills from his pocket. Dameron didn't smile at him, but he didn't frown either. Rather, his face showed an expression one step above pity. And Ben would take it.

His hands trembled ( _I'm just like Poe)_ as he fumbled for the lid and swallowed two of the neural inhibitors dry. The pilots were too busy working on the ship to bother checking on him, but BB-8 remained at his side, chirping inquisitively.

And when Solo turned around, his father had vanished.

He stumbled back to a foldable cot beside Rey and collapsed upon it, sinking into sleep devoid of dreams and wishing he would never wake up again.

TBC

 **A/N:** I have returned! (Not that I went anywhere). Suffice it to say that this chapter has not been necessarily _easy_ to write. Not sure if it's because the story is losing steam or because the next section will require me to do more research into the Star Wars universe (which I am still terribly unfamiliar with) and it's taking more time to come together. Hope you're all still enjoying reading this! Let me know what you like, what you don't like, and perhaps what you'd like to see more of in the future. If you like this fic, check out "Let Yourself Be Carried," another Star Wars story I've started writing that is Rey-centric. Cheers!

~Ista


	19. I Do Nothing But Think of You

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 19: I Do Nothing But Think of You**

Rey dreamt of her parents.

She didn't remember much. It was more of a _sensation_ of them than anything tangible. She couldn't remember names or dates or places really. But she held close to the _feeling_ of them. Her mother was a spark of blue fire, a bundle of raw energy. She never stood still. Her father came across to her in quiet khaki colors, drenched with sweat from the desert. But he didn't mind the heat. He was born on Jakku, after all, and as a student of archeology and history, he admired the desert for its preservative properties. If you buried something there, it would remain for thousands of years, untouched, sacred, a glimpse into another time and a signal to the future.

A fragment of a memory that she had long kept covered in the folds of her subconscious surfaced in her dream. She was skipping in the doorway of her clay and mud home, kicking up dust while her mother was away on some errand. Rey held a doll close to her chest—one that was dressed in an orange flight suit and white vest, similar to one her mother kept neatly folded in a large crate in her parents' bedroom. As Rey danced in the sand, she was careful to keep the doll unsoiled.

Something caught her attention. In the shadow of the large dunes that rested in her backyard her father was digging in the ground. This activity was not unusual for her father, and Rey would have gone back to playing without another thought had it not been for the fact that he had no equipment with him—no brushes or mini pick axes—that was customary when he was at work on a site. Instead, Rey watched her father with fascination as he covered over the hole he had just dug in the sand and moved onto another seemingly random spot.

Rey squeezed her pilot doll tightly, finding courage from the toy to confront her father about his strange behavior. She took small tentative steps into the blazing heat of Jakku, the dry swelter enveloping her as a gentle wind blew wisps of brown hair out of her face.

She had barely stepped away from her home when her father noticed her and quickly covered up the other hole he had dug, standing and moving quickly, his adult stride meeting her halfway in a matter of seconds. And then Rey was swept up into his large and comforting arms, and she giggled as he stuck his tongue at her. She brushed the reddish-blonde stubble on the side of his face with her hand, her palm only covering a small portion of his jaw.

Then her father set her back on the ground and he knelt down to be at her eye level, pulling out a gnarled scroll from behind his back.

"Do you know what this is, Rey?" he asked, blue-green eyes twinkling.

Rey's thumb found its way to her mouth, and she sucked on it thoughtfully, examining the paper. There were several numbers and symbols she didn't recognize, along with ten Xs, separate from each other and spread across the page. She shook her head silently.

"It's a treasure map!" her father said with a grin. "Would you like to help me find the treasure?"

Rey's thumb dropped from her mouth, and she nodded excitedly. So _this_ was what her father had been up to. Instantly, she thrust the pilot doll into her father's hands and began running towards the dune, dipping into the soothing shade of its shadow across the sand.

"Rey!" her father called, bemused. "What about the map?"

But Rey didn't need a map. And although she had never done it before, Rey closed her eyes and imagined her father—his countenance, his smell—the tang of sweat combined with the sweetness of old books, the prickly texture of the stubble under his chin. And when Rey opened her eyes, she could _feel_ the presence of her father—of where he had recently _been,_ like afterimages in her mind's eye. Rey quickly fell to her knees and got to work.

In a matter of minutes, Raiden Dai, father of Rey Kenobi, watched in unmatched awe as his three and a half year old daughter systematically went to each of the spots where he had dug—spots he had been meticulously careful to hide all traces of digging, his efforts facilitated by the wind and smooth sand—and ran to him minutes later with a grin brighter than Jakku's sun on her face. She dropped ten coins into his open hands in exchange for her Resistance pilot doll.

"Father," she piped up. "I found your treasure!"

* * *

More than anything in the world, Finn wanted Rey to wake up. After that wish was granted, he wanted to sleep. For about a week.

Finn wasn't sure how long he had been awake, but he had lost count ten hours ago. This was long after Ben Solo had drugged himself into dreamland and Poe had helped him find a nice quiet orbiting meteor to land the _Falcon_ on. The landing went smoothly, and halfway through a diagnostics check, Finn had heard snores coming from the pilot's chair. Dameron had fallen asleep with his hands still gripping the controls. Finn had covered him with a blanket and assured BB-8 that Poe was fine before the droid reluctantly shut itself off to re-charge.

Finn found himself surrounded by friends (and one potential psychopath—the jury was still out on that one) and yet he never felt more alone. The ex-stormtrooper walked the halls of the too-quiet _Falcon,_ doing routine maintenance work and praying that _one_ of his companions would wake up soon. Hell, he'd even settle for Ben Solo. _Anyone_ to talk to.

Finn gazed out at the canopy of stars, and a deep sigh escaped him. He wasn't sure of what would happen to the Resistance now after the firefight outside of Devaron. He could still feel the heat of those blazing ships, burned into his eyes so that when he closed them, he could still see the ghosts of the space crafts floating on his eyelids. Luke Skywalker—dead? How could that be? And Chewie? At least General Organa had survived.

The future was so uncertain. But Finn was sure of one thing: Poe and Rey were depending on him. More than ever before. And Finn wouldn't let them down this time.

Steeling a quick glance at the ex-Sith lord lying beside Rey, Finn bent over to check on her. Solo had successfully healed the gash on her forehead, and aside from a paler complexion, Rey was breathing evenly and slowly. Almost as a reflex, Finn felt for the letter he had written to her in his pants pocket, checking to make sure it was still there. It seemed like months since he had written it, even though it had only been a few weeks.

Finn bit his lip as he gazed down at Rey's sleeping figure, longing for her to be awake.

He thought: _If you open your eyes right now, I'm going to give you the letter. Right now. If you wake up… Please wake up._

Half of him wanted to place it in her lifeless hands and hope for the best. Finn didn't know how Rey would react to the letter anymore. Did she still resent him for making Dameron follow her? Did Rey still think that Finn didn't trust her, that she had aligned herself with an enemy of the Resistance? That she had become friends with a monster?

Finn switched his gaze back to Ben Solo. At the same instant, a brief spasm of pain curled up his spine, stemming from the cold metal brace along his back. How _dare_ anyone make him for guilty for loathing this man? How could Finn give Ben Solo another chance? Their relationship was forged the moment Kylo Ren had ordered the massacre of the village on Jakku and had solidified in the blood trickling down Poe's face when Finn helped him escape the _Finalizer._ Finn had been _afraid_ of Kylo Ren at that moment. But when Finn had watched Ren carry Rey's unconscious body away from him— _that_ had been the moment that Finn hated Ben Solo more than any other person.

Not to mention the death of Han Solo, a man Finn looked to as a mentor.

Not to mention nearly killing Finn, leaving him permanently disabled.

Ben Solo squirmed in his sleep, mumbling a string of nonsense words before turning over onto his side, one wrist hanging limply off the cot. Finn stepped backwards to avoid contact with the other man, and a small part of him softened as he remembered the lost and desperate expression on Ben's face before he begged Dameron for the neural inhibitors.

Pity. Finn could feel pity for Solo. That was where his empathy for Organa's son ended.

The ex-stormtrooper wiped the crumbs of exhaustion from the corners of his eyes as he slid into the co-pilot seat and continued running diagnostics. After an hour (or two—Finn didn't really know anymore) a voice behind him made him jump.

"Where are we?"

Finn spun around in his seat. "Rey!"

Instinctively, Finn took her hand, the sight of Rey's sleepy face causing the doubt and loneliness he had felt to evaporate. However, the contact felt forced, inappropriate for the moment. Rey couldn't seem to look him in the eyes. So Finn released her hand, head bowing.

He was about to ask her how she was feeling when Rey's eyes scanned the control console. "Nar Shaddaa?!" she exclaimed.

Finn rapidly filled her in on the story Ben had told him and Poe—of the smugglers her parents had followed. In the meantime, they were waiting to hear back from the Resistance for more orders.

The ex-stormtrooper tilted his head to indicate their sleeping friend. "Poe wanted to stay and fight. I think he was…disappointed in me."

"I agree with Poe," she said, shocking Finn. "You should have fought back!"

Finn pretended that her words hadn't hurt him. He longed to grab that piece of paper in his pocket and show it to her before it was too late. Before she broke his heart. Because Finn was being pushed past his limit of what he could take in the span of one day.

"Rey, you were hurt. I couldn't risk your life…"

Rey shook her head as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Besides, don't you remember that we're carrying one of the most wanted men in the galaxy on board?" He indicated Ben Solo's immobile form. "Not to mention that Poe isn't ready for battle. You didn't see how much his hands were shaking… I couldn't leave him in the hot seat to man the gunner."

At that moment, Poe shifted in the pilot's chair. It made Finn's neck ache just to glance at his friend's contorted sleeping position, mouth slightly ajar.

The Jakkunian stepped lightly to check on the sleeping pilot. "Has he eaten anything since we left D'Qar?"

Finn shook his head, another stab of guilt surging through him. Rey's implication was that he should have taken care of Poe. "He's only just getting his strength back. I was surprised he was able to help me with the _Falcon_ as long as he did."

Rey positioned herself directly in front of Dameron, humming a snatch of a nameless tune, and gently lifted Poe by his shoulders. Dameron's eyes fluttered open, then shut, as she braced his back and supported him into a standing position.

"That's it," she said quietly, although it wasn't clear whether Poe was fully cognizant of what was happening to him. However, through some miracle (or Rey's gentle coaxing via the Force) Dameron shuffled slowly along with her until she placed him on the foldable cot she had just vacated. Poe sunk upon its surface with a soft sigh, and Rey fetched the blanket to cover him with it. Finn watched her sneak a glance at Ben Solo, sleeping dead to the world right across from Dameron.

Finn rubbed a hand over his forehead again with exhaustion and an urge to be forgiven. He was about to spout a string of apologies and admissions: _You were right to make us take Ben Solo. We should have fought…_ But Rey surprised him, like she constantly did, and spoke first.

The anger and frustration had dropped from her eyes, replaced with a lost look. Rey said, "I'm sorry for being upset with you just now. But…The First Order has Luke Skywalker. And Chewie."

 _No._

"Hux!" Finn hissed under his breath, certain of the evil General's hand in this diabolical revelation. "It was a trap—we walked right into it."

Rey shrugged, a nearly imperceptible shoulder lift that conveyed a combination of uncertainty and hopelessness. Finn didn't blame her. They were all exhausted.

"I appreciate you wanting to help me find my parents," Rey said thickly, again not able to look Finn in the eyes. "But now you know what I have to do."

Finn tilted his head. It was _so_ like Rey to feel responsible for everything.

"We'll save them _together_ ," Finn said.

This time, it was Rey who placed her hand into his, and the spontaneity of her gesture caused shivers of electricity jolting through his body, warming him. Her touch was _hope_ embodied. Finn felt transformed, not even bothering to hide the wide grin that spread across his face until Rey looked up and matched his gaze. This time, it was Finn who broke the connection. Because he had forgotten the most important part of Ben Solo's story.

The information came out quicker than Finn had intended, a stream of nearly unintelligible syllables: "You parents were after a holocron that was stolen from the Jedi and it was taken by smugglers from Nar Shaddaa and it foretells a weapon that can destroy Snoke."

Rey's eyes widened as Finn gasped for breath after he got the words out.

"You mean…" Her mouth clamped shut, contemplating.

Finn couldn't suppress another grin. "You want to defeat Snoke and get Skywalker back? I'd say a Jedi weapon might help."

Finn couldn't believe it. Was he actually _defending_ a suggestion from Ben Solo?

 _Must be more tired than I thought._

Or just desperate. Desperate to help Rey and get her mentor back.

He could see the wheels turning in her mind, her eyes darting from right to left as she weighed the risks and possibilities.

"We go to Nar Shaddaa," she whispered. "You have a plan, I assume?"

Finn waved his hand nonchalantly. "Oh, yeah. I have a plan."

When Rey's eyes narrowed, the ex-stormtrooper knew that she had seen through his lie much too easily. As usual.

"No," Finn said, shaking his head emphatically. "I don't actually have a plan."

"That's all right," Rey said, allowing herself to smile and leaning back in the pilot's seat. "Because _I_ do."

* * *

The smuggler's moon was glimmering in the _Falcon's_ view-screen like the golden teeth of a pirate when Ben Solo was rudely awakened from a sleep like death.

At first, it was BB-8 tugging on his sleeve with one of its slim metal claws. He swatted at it like a lethargic cat until another grip (this one larger and softer than the droid's claw) grabbed his arm and jerked him upright.

"Get up, sleeping beauty!" came the gruff voice above him.

"Finn!" That was Rey, like a schoolteacher. "You're going to wake Poe!"

BB-8 chirped in agreement, and Ben Solo repressed the urge to spit in the face of the man who had just wrenched him from sleep.

Instead, Ben drawled, "Heello…traitor."

Finn's eyes gleamed in the semi-light of the _Falcon's_ cockpit, his lips pursed in a no-nonsense, I've-had-enough-of-you way.

Tough. The traitor would just have to accept that he was _with_ them. And he wasn't going anywhere. Not for a little while, at least.

"If you don't mind," Solo said, his voice hovering dangerously close to annoyed, "I was trying to get some sleep. The smugglers can wait."

"But _Luke Skywalker_ can't!" Finn burst out, reaching forward to grab Ben's arm again when Rey interceded. She gently blocked the traitor's arm from touching Solo and instead leaned forward.

"Ben, your uncle's been taken by the First Order."

Solo thought about his reaction to the news. True, he could feign horror and win more points with Kenobi, but the truth was he was simply too tired to lie, so he shrugged.

"Hux must have planted a spy in the Resistance. He was waiting for you to rendezvous."

As much as Ben _loathed_ that red-haired rodent of a man (who would ever name their child _Brendol?)_ , he had to hand it to Snoke's favorite General. The First Order was pulling several sticky strings to retain him. Ben Solo fleetingly thought he would have to personally thank Hux when he saw him again, and for a moment, he imagined himself as Kylo Ren once more, hiding behind the safety of his mask and other people's fear.

But then the ghost of his father appeared, quietly watching him from the pilot seat of the _Falcon_ , and Ben knew that he could never be Kylo Ren again. Not with his father beside him for all eternity.

"So we push back," Finn said, breaking his reverie but not erasing the image of Han Solo from his waking mind, sending tendrils of fear washing over his body.

Rey licked her lips. "We're going to land on Nar Shaddaa, and you're going to accompany Finn to gather information about the holocron and my parents." She mumbled an aside to Finn: "There _has_ to be a few seedy dives you can visit."

" _Clearly_ you have never been to Nar Shaddaa," Ben scoffed, elongating his arms in a wide stretch. "The entire _moon_ is a seedy dive."

At the enormous groaning sound of Ben's stomach, Rey tossed him a few protein bars and a thermos of water, which he munched on and sipped from. He had forgotten the last time he had eaten, before the attack on D'Qar. Ben was thankful for the sustenance, but he didn't show his gratitude.

While Finn and Rey prepared the _Millennium Falcon_ for take-off and charted the least conspicuous path to land in the sprawling city of Hutta Town, Ben Solo preoccupied himself with _ignoring_ the spirit of his dead father, who was now standing beside Rey, admiring her work. It always seemed worse when he paid the apparition any attention. Instead, Solo observed Poe Dameron's sleeping form and listened to the pilots' conversation.

Finn, the consummate fretter, bucked against Rey's plan. "I don't know if this is such a good idea. He's one of the most wanted men in the galaxy… and we're going to send him to smuggler's paradise?"

A smile twisted on Ben's face. At the same time, he noted Dameron shifting in his sleep, turning from side to side. One of his hands curled around his pillow, the other resting on his waist.

"Then _I'll_ go with you," came Rey's reply as the ship hummed and jostled from its resting place on the meteor.

Solo leaned over in a seated position as BB-8 tottered over to him, its singular eye focusing and re-focusing on Dameron's condition. The sleeping man continued to writhe in his cot, unbeknownst to his two companions.

Finn's voice grew even harsher. "And leave _him_ alone with Poe and the _Falcon_?"

Solo chose his moment to defend himself: "Only nine people in the entire galaxy know my true face well enough to pick it out of a crowd. And three of them are on this ship. I think we'll be safe." He couldn't help but smirk as Finn and Rey shot glances back at him. "The advantages of wearing a mask."

Finn opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but by then the sickly golden glow of Nar Shaddaa filled the view-screen, glistening and calling to them. Han Solo's transparent form turned around and spoke softly, words only Ben could hear:

 _-When was the last time you visited this place? Not with me._

Ben sneered at thin air.

Surely it was impossible for ghosts to become paler, but Han Solo blanched. His eyes contained disproof.

 _-With Luke?_

The one who once was a Knight bowed his head, suddenly dizzy, his heartbeats pulsing erratically. His stomach surged with nausea as the _Falcon_ plunged forward and dipped down, gently flying towards the moon. The unhealthy gleam of the moon's neverending cities grew clearer, formed the smooth shapes and straight lines of skyscrapers. All of this was rushing upon Ben Solo as he tried to block his father and the memories he had long repressed from days when he had trained with Skywalker.

This entire time, Poe Dameron continued thrashing in his cot.

The _Falcon_ finally touched down, perched on a tall building in the northeast corner of the city. Ben Solo took a deep breath, settling his nerves, avoiding his father's eyes. And then BB-8 was beeping distinctly, ramming into his leg with its circular metal shell. Kylo Ren would have dismissed the creature and disposed of any being to interrupt him (droid or humanoid) with a wave of his hand or a jolt of his lightsaber. But Ben Solo _heard_ what the astromech was saying.

Something about _helping._ Helping _Poe._

Beads of sweat stuck to the dark haired man's skin as Ben unbuckled himself to kneel beside his childhood friend, feeling about as useful as a Jawa on stilts, but _compelled_ by the orange and white droid to do _something._

Solo glanced nervously ( _What have you got to be_ nervous _about?)_ at Rey and the traitor as they exchanged information about climate and location, running more diagnostics to check that the _Falcon_ was in order. They were too busy to notice what was happening…

As Poe continued to shake, soft rasping sounds escaping from his open mouth, Ben thought of the only thing that could help him. He could _soothe_ the man into a peaceful sleep. Solo's throat was dry as he felt his father's ghost drift closer. But instead of asking more questions Ben couldn't answer, there came encouragement.

 _-Help him, son._

Ben's eyes stung with concentration as he dipped into the well of power that had been inhibited for so long and imagined channeling it into something silky, something calm, _healing._

The once-Ren reached out with his gloveless hand, unsure of his powers, like a toddler stumbling forward and daring to take his first step. He took a deep breath and touched Poe's flailing arm to ensure the connection.

Instantly, Ben's hand recoiled and his mind was flooded with a series of images so quick that he couldn't parse them upon reflection of the event. There had been orange fire, cloying smoke, the scorch of blasters, and a very familiar mask.

Ben Solo bit down on his tongue so hard that he tasted blood. Unwittingly, he had glimpsed inside his old friend's mind again.

Poe's unconscious reaction to Solo's touch had been shocking, but what happened immediately after surpassed Ben's previous astonishment.

Dameron began to scream.

 **TBC**

 **A/N:** Happy May the Fourth, everyone! The completion and posting of this chapter is entirely coincidental. I'm afraid I've been more addicted to _reading_ fanfiction than _writing_ it lately. (I stumbled upon the deliciousness of Kylux, and I think I need help.) Special thanks to **Nyla the lioness** for posting some lovely comments! Don't worry—Ben is definitely gonna fly the _Falcon_ sometime… But you might have to wait a while! Thanks again for all of your follows, favorites, and reviews!

~Ista

P.S. I know that "Brendol" is Hux's father's name, but I've seen it used as his first name in other fics, and I thought I'd borrow it!

P.P.S. Forgive the glaring typos and errors in the original posting of this chapter. I have fixed most of them. Me = ugh.


	20. Are We Awake?

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 20: Are We Awake?**

Poe woke to the sound of screams.

Everything was muddled, sweat stinging his eyes and making his sight blurry. He had no recollection of his dreams-only that he had been walking into a dark cave that had inverted into a pit, and he had been falling, falling, until the breath caught in his chest. His throat was raw and ached, almost as much as it had when he woke up on D'Qar after his capture on Vera 5.

Dameron also woke to chaos.

He was in a partial sitting position, struggling against someone's strong arms. They belonged to Rey. And Finn was on the floor of the _Falcon_ , a shocked expression plastered across his face, like he had fallen out of his chair. Why had Finn fallen out of his chair? And-even more surprising-Ben Solo was also sprawled back against the floor beside Rey, as if she had pushed him out of the way. BB-8's head peeked over the top of his cot, its lack of sound a somber marker.

"Easy, Poe," Rey said, her hands pressing into his right arm. The touch was soothing and influenced his heartbeat to decrease because it was running faster than a motor. Calming. Slow. Sweat dripped sickeningly down the back of his neck, sticking to his shirt.

What the heck had just happened?

Poe's body shuddered as Rey continued stroking his arm, easing him back down on his cot.

"What did you DO to him?" Finn yelled across the cockpit.

Ben Solo merely blinked in response, his face almost translucent, like all the blood had been drained from it.

"Quiet!" Rey hissed.

 _Were you fighting?_ Poe wanted to ask, but the words wouldn't come. They stuck in his throat, garbled together, and came out of his mouth in a breathy wheeze.

Rey saw his lips move, understanding his meaning. There was something else in her eyes too-a vague surprise, but any further clues as to what exactly had happened were unreadable. "No, we weren't fighting. You just had a nightmare, that's all. Try to relax."

There was more to the story than that. Dameron was no fool, but he also knew better than to demand an answer when tensions were already running high. Instead, he focused his attention on the view screen to his left. Was that the yellow-orange tinge of a sunrise? Poe pointed at the screen, mouthing his question.

"We're on Nar Shaddaa," Rey explained. "Remember the plan?"

Dameron nodded.

Gradually, his pounding heart became a steady drum beat and his breathing evened. BB-8 crooned softly, the sound helping him relax. He wanted to stretch out an arm and pat the droid on its head, but instead Poe curled inward.

With all of the attention focused on him, Dameron's face burned with shame. All of a sudden, he wanted to find another corner of the _Falcon_ to hide in, to be alone, so his friends would not see his weakness yet again. He wanted to run away, but Poe was too afraid his legs would give out before he got there.

As if they sensed Dameron's discomfort, the others began preoccupying themselves with other things. Rey rose gracefully, reaching for a nearby duffel bag and producing a thermos of water and protein bars. She set these beside Poe's cot with a subdued smile before going to the conn to check on something. Finn threw a heap of wrinkled civilian clothes onto Ben Solo's lap; his eyes radiated pure contempt.

"Put these on. Meet you by the ramp."

 _Had they decided on a specific mission?_ Poe felt so out of the loop. Helpless. Weak again.

As Ben slunk away to another room to change, Finn motioned Rey close and they began whispering to each other. Poe wished he didn't catch their sidelong glances his way or the worried tone of their exchanges.

Because he couldn't hear them and didn't feel like eavesdropping, Poe closed his eyes and tried to forget his embarrassment from a moment ago. Even after all that had happened-the battle that he had been unable to enter to fight for his friends by Devaron. How many had died? These feelings plagued his conscience. When his comrades in the Resistance had really needed his help, he had been unable to defend them. All at once, Poe Dameron felt like he was five years old again.

But then a familiar electronic chortle made him prop himself up on his elbows. BB-8 was bobbing its head towards the nearby rations, reminding him to eat like the droid had done countless times before on D'Qar.

The water glided, cool and sweet, down his burning throat. And the protein bars, tasteless as they were, stopped his head from pounding, his limbs from shaking. He felt more at ease, his muscles only slightly aching from the strain of carrying Ben Solo's limp body halfway across the compound to reach the _Falcon_.

BB-8 spun around to get his attention and Poe lazily swung over to face the droid, a game they had played many times before. Usually, BB-8 communicated with Dameron in a mixture of sign language and intonations rather than concrete language. It was very much apart of BB-8's personality to _sing_ its feelings rather than _say_ them. However, it spoke plainly to him in this moment, one eye-lens focused on him with absolute seriousness.

-Talk to me.

Poe cocked his head quizzically, miming BB-8's usual questioning response to better communicate with it. He signed.

-I had a nightmare, buddy.

BB-8 edged closer. Its response was downright forceful.

-TALK to me.

And then it finally clicked for Poe, and he understood what the astromech meant. It wanted him to respond OUT LOUD, something he hadn't done for months now.

The request was almost comical. But those screams he had heard on the tail-end of his nightmare... Poe shuddered.

-I can't speak, BB. I'm sorry.

And, rather than press him further, the droid sidled next to him like a timid pet and nuzzled his left calf. Thus the two friends sat together, waiting for Rey and Finn to be done and tell them what was going on, and where they were and why they were whispering.

Ben Solo emerged from the depths of his father's old ship wearing a ripped grey tunic and navy blue pants, tripping over bootlaces that he stooped down to tie. Poe sucked in a quick breath at the sight of the man, his mind telling him not to worry, but his body and heart back on D'Qar, back by the lake of acid, back by the cave that never ended, dissolving into blackness—

BB-8 chirped a greeting at Solo and Dameron did a double take.

 _What?_

Ben ignored the droid from his spot several feet away until BB-8 rumbled over to him, as if he was Finn or Rey or any of the other Resistance fighters Poe was friends with. Because if Poe treated any person with respect or kindness, BB-8 replicated the gestures.

But this was new. BB-8 had made a friend on its own. And that friend just happened to be Ben Solo.

A flash of annoyance briefly crossed Solo's face until BB-8 twittered happily, and then… the expression _changed._ It was a shocking transformation. Ben's face morphed from a grimace into a… Dameron wasn't sure what it was. It wasn't a smile, but it definitely wasn't a frown.

 _It's a_ not-frown.

Ben Solo kept _not-frowning_ as he sat opposite Dameron on a cot _,_ although his eyes were downcast. It was disconcerting, to say the least. And then Solo looked up, met the pilot's gaze, and Poe's heart was in his throat—

"C'mon," Finn said, finishing his conversation with Rey.

Dameron was unsure whom the ex-stormtrooper was talking to.

And then—an even stranger gesture: Ben cringed. When Finn walked over to them, Solo cringed.

"Ready?" Finn asked Solo, more of a statement than a question.

When Dameron shot a glance at Rey, he knew. All of a sudden, he knew that Finn had made up his mind to take Ben-the-evil-one on his "mission"—into the nest of vipers that was and forever will be Nar Shaddaa. Without his best friends.

In Rey's eyes, Poe saw a detached acceptance. This was a battle she had tried to win and realized she couldn't.

So it had been settled _for_ him.

Dameron stood on a whim, grateful that BB-8 was there to brace his knees as they knocked together. Luckily, he stood without any other support, although Finn reached out an arm.

Poe hoped the ex-stormtrooper could feel the anger leaking out of his eyes, feel the weight of his insistence that he be part of the mission through his gaze alone.

After all, his message may have been lost in BB-8's clipped and perfect speech.

-You have no right to leave me here. Not after what happened to the Resistance, to my friends.

Finn got the message, loud and clear.

"Listen, Poe…" And then—the briefest flash of a tight smile took Dameron off guard. It made Poe tilt his head, examine his friend more closely. He noted the dark circles underneath Finn's eyes. Why hadn't he noticed them before? The ex-stormtrooper looked exhausted…

"Rey has a plan," Finn finished, placing his hands on Dameron's shoulders. They felt warm and sturdy on top of the smooth leather of his jacket.

Poe glanced at Rey again, and the meaning of the look she gave him before became clear. _Rey_ had been the one who wanted to venture through Nar Shaddaa, alone. But Finn wouldn't let her do that, nor let either of them be alone with Ben Solo. Thus, the ex-stormtrooper was attempting to once again take on the majority of responsibilities—the one who was so used to following orders now leading.

Dameron's legs shook, and if it hadn't been for BB-8's insistent chirps, he might not have sat back down in time to save face. Poe grit his teeth in frustration at the reminder of his own weakness, taking a deep breath. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Finn was right. He was better off remaining on the _Falcon._ At least for the time being.

Finn let a soft sigh of relief next to him, and Dameron realized that the other man must have realized the difficulty in excluding Poe from scouting—that he had anticipated the reaction Poe gave. And yet Finn had done it anyway, despite the difficulty he had in going against his own friends' wishes. This thought made Poe forgive Finn for any imagined slight against him. And to prove he didn't feel resentful, Poe tugged on Finn's sleeve to get his attention, beaming with a bright thumbs-up when Finn looked down. Finn's steady smile in return solidified their friendship.

They were in the proverbial middle of nowhere, after all. They couldn't start attacking each other now.

During this entire interaction, Ben Solo had been uncharacteristically quiet, and it wasn't until Poe took his eyes from Finn that he saw Solo fiddle with a container he had pulled from one pocket, torso turned to one side in secrecy, opening his mouth—

"Not so fast," Finn said, catching Solo's wrist.

The brunette flinched and scowled simultaneously, eyes rolling, revealing a man who had been deprived of a true childhood, who had never been able to be run free from the shadow of his family's legacy.

 _Except for those few years when we were young,_ Poe thought grimly. _When was the last time you climbed a tree, Ben?_

And when Solo's dark brown eyes flashed to his, Dameron gasped. Finn noticed the movement and tossed Ben's arm aside with a _harrumph._

"You can take _one,"_ the ex-stormtrooper said, like a careful parent measuring out medicine.

Solo's eyes were still fixed on Poe, hesitant, as if he didn't even hear Finn.

Dameron found himself unafraid of staring into the face of the man who had so deeply broken through his consciousness. He had to know.

 _Are we awake? Are you reading my mind?_

Solo swallowed, eyes sliding painfully from Poe's like they were glued there to quell BB-8's repetitive beeps. It was clear the droid was trying to juggle all of its companions' personalities and wants and wishes at the same time. Not wanting Finn to be angry at Solo. Not wanting Ben to snap at Finn.

 _It must be exhausted,_ Poe thought. _Like Finn. All because of me and Ben. What a mess we're making of everything._

Then Solo reached down and _patted_ BB-8 on the head. The gesture took perhaps a few seconds.

And Poe's entire world stopped.

Solo growled at the ex-stormtrooper: "Two." _Back to being a stubborn child._

Finn sighed, relenting. "One now. One later. When we've left this dump."

Ben muttered something unintelligible under his breath and tossed the neural inhibitor into his mouth hungrily, dry-swallowing it, eyes closing, body shuddering.

Dameron looked away as Finn checked the weapons on his belt—a blaster and a knife, just in case. Poe had never visited Nar Shaddaa before, but the stories he had heard in the Resistance were enough to make even the cockiest rebel pilot fly in the opposite direction when the smuggler's moon came onto the view screen.

"Do I get a blaster too?" Ben asked, facetious and deadpan.

Finn immediately ignored Solo, keeping his cool, and Poe was grateful to Finn for that. As exhausted as they all were. Instead, the ex-stormtrooper said, "Let's go."

Dameron mouthed to Finn, _Good luck_ , and although Finn gave a serious nod, his eyes were warm pools of liquid.

Next, Rey swept in, taking Finn's hand in a brief moment that neither Poe, BB-8, or Solo missed. Worry exuded from her presence, flighty and excited and concerned all at once.

"Poe…"

Dameron glanced at Solo, heart nearly stopping. His childhood friend looked like he was about to say something more, but then Ben's eyes wandered to something over Poe's left shoulder, and the other man stood, frame trembling. Dameron looked over his shoulder, wondering what had distracted Ben, but there was nothing there. By the time his head whipped back around, Solo had already turned and ambled away, following Finn to the ramp of the _Falcon_ where they would descend into the depths of the moon's eternal city.

Once he heard the metallic _clang_ of the _Millennium Falcon's_ doors close, Dameron heaved a nervous sigh, and BB-8 trilled beside him, assuring him that all would be well.

"If they don't kill each other first," Rey said.

Dameron huffed out a silent laugh before he could stop himself after realizing the truth in the Jedi's statement. Rey bit her lip and plopped down opposite him where the ex-dark lord had just sat. What she said made Poe perk up from being left behind.

"Are you up for some flying?"

Poe nodded enthusiastically, pressing his palms into his legs to negate their shaking.

"Good," Rey said with a smile. "I did some quick research on Nar Shaddaa while you were eating and Finn was getting ready." She tossed a data pad in his lap. Poe took it, mouth gaping at the length of the text he began to scroll through. He signed to BB-8 for interpretation.

- _This_ was _quick_ research _?_

She shot him a glance that could be translated as: _Obviously._ Then she took the data pad back and tapped at it thoughtfully.

"Master Luke told me about the time he rescued Han Solo on Tatooine and what he and General Organa used as bait."

Dameron leaned forward, prompting Rey to continue. She was growing more animated, and he had to repress his amusement at her enthusiasm.

"They used Chewbacca," she continued, lowering her eyes, running her fingers over BB-'s smooth shell as it warbled. "They thought the one holding Han Solo captive might trade for a wookie because he was a collector of sorts."

Now Rey was downright confusing him. BB-8 was fast at picking up his apprehension.

-I do not understand.

Rey finally dragged her eyes to make contact with his. Poe could tell she knew he wouldn't like the plan.

"Well, you _are_ the best pilot in the Resistance."

Was _the best pilot,_ Poe thought fleetingly before the meaning of Rey's words really sunk in.

 _You want me to be the wookie?!_ he mouthed, sure that Rey had read his mind or lips, or both.

"Yeees," she said reluctantly, drawing out the vowel of the word. "Because I think I know who was responsible for stealing the holocron. And he's a Hutt."

* * *

Finn made a promise to himself to ignore Ben Solo on their mission to Nar Shaddaa.

That promise lasted approximately three and a half minutes.

He put aside anger, hunger, exhaustion, and an all-encompassing annoyance with a deep breath and swallowed back a curse as the man who had once been Kylo Ren tripped over his own feet and proceeded to crash head-first into yet _another_ market vendor. Which led to Ben Solo's profuse and clumsy apologies. Which led to aforementioned vendor yelling (their voice like rusty breaks) something along the lines of "You break it, you buy it!" in an unidentifiable tongue. Which led Finn to yank Ben's arm and manhandle the ex-dark lord along, shuffling forward and disappearing into the fortunate bustle of the city before they were apprehended or, worse, recognized.

 _I'm going to kill him,_ Finn thought, quite reasonably. _I'm actually going to kill him._

The ex-stormtrooper wiped sweat from his brow against the humidity of the city smog and prayed to the Force for assistance. The city sizzled at midday, and the sun beat down upon the dry dust and filth of the streets, kicked by the multitudes of moving feet into a noxious cloud. Finn did not only distrust the _inhabitants_ of Nar Shaddaa, he didn't even trust the air he was breathing.

He also couldn't remember seeing so many people in one place since being in the First Order. Good thing large groups didn't make him claustrophobic, but it _definitely_ made keeping track of one force sensitive on neural inhibitors that much harder.

Ben's eyes were glassy yet wide open, as if he was at once in awe of and unconcerned about the chaos around him.

"I thought you'd been here before!" Finn hissed, practically shouting over the din of buyers and sellers.

Solo said, "A long time ago." His eyes cast downwards, concentrating on his footsteps. Unfortunately, his change in attention caused him to run into yet _another_ merchant—this time a burly fellow with tusks and glowing emerald eyes.

"Watch where you're going!" Ben exclaimed as Finn swore under his breath.

The seller emitted a low growl, gripping Solo by his shirt collar and dragging him a foot off the ground.

Ben's expression changed from cocky to cowardly in a millisecond. "S-sorry," he stammered.

Finn immediately intervened, mumbling something along the lines of, "This isn't the idiot you're looking for," and tugging on Solo's sleeves until Ben was extricated from the brute's grasp, and the two raced off, bumping into each other in their hurry.

The ex-stormtrooper silently thanked the Force that Ben's latest blunder hadn't involved a slightly meaner being the size of a rancor. And though the danger had passed yet again, Finn felt acute pressure, a sudden panic. His hand hovered over the blaster in his belt, heart pounding. Why was it that every pair of eyes seemed to linger over him and Solo much too long?

When Ben stumbled _again_ , Finn jerked him upright and hauled him to the right side of the busy street. It was vaguely alarming how light and frail the taller man was in his grasp, how he yielded to Finn's every motion. As if Ben didn't care. As if he'd given up. And why, dammit, did that idea _bother_ Finn?

"Listen to me!" Finn barked, slamming Solo's shoulders into the wall of the nearest building, his voice dropping to a frenzied whisper. "We're here to help Rey and gather information on her parents, the holocron, and the smugglers, all right? We are _not_ here to get caught. Understood?"

"Oh, so _you're_ the supreme leader of this mission now?" Ben drawled, a wry smile ghosting across his face. "Supreme Leader Finn?"

Finn slammed Ben against the wall a second time, careful to rattle him without injuring him. Though why it mattered to him, Finn didn't have time to process.

The ex-stormtrooper's face hovered inches away from Solo's.

"Understood?"

Ben's unfocused eyes widened; they contained perhaps a flicker of fear. But Finn would take it.

Solo nodded.

"And for your information," said Finn, "I'm a Commander. C'mon." He hooked Ben's left arm around his right and continued walking cautiously down the crowded street.

A sharp whine from Ben. "You know, traitor, I'll obey your orders a lot more enthusiastically as soon as you _let go of me."_

Finn stopped, mock-considering this request. "You know, Ben, I'll let go of your arm as soon as you stop _falling on your face constantly."_

A groan from Solo as Finn wrenched his arm again, dragging him along. "Where are we _going_?"

Finn didn't know how much longer he could put up with Ben's complaints, the heat, the mass of suspicious eyes watching them as they walked along, and his growling stomach. He suppressed a yawn with the back of his hand and paused again. "Looking for a—"

"Seedy café?" Solo interrupted.

Finn glanced at Ben in surprise. "Yeah."

Solo's index finger swirled in the air and pointed to the building right next to them. Finn studied the establishment's chipped brown paint, its neon lights and barred windows. He hadn't noticed it before, but he could hear music playing from inside—jarring bass and tinny synth sounds.

Finn opened his mouth, but Ben dryly said, "You're welcome."

With that, Solo and Finn opened the doors of the café together and stepped inside.

TBC

 **A/N:** Back again! I'm sorry for the ridiculous wait between chapters, but life has become busy again, so I won't be able to post as often. Plus, I'm also trying my hand at writing two other fics simultaneously so I can take a creative breather from this one. Can you believe that I started writing it in January?! The last time I worked this long on a fic was about fourteen years ago. Wow.

Thanks again to all of my lovely readers, reviewers, favoriters, and followers! You have been wonderful supporters of this fic, and you've been so patient with me. Virtual cupcakes to you ALL! And keep letting me know what you like, dislike, and want to see more of in this story. Special thanks to **SWFann, Pricklefritz, Sina, Neon Wish Likes Pine Trees, Laatija,** and **Nyla the lioness.** Love your reviews!

Since it's the big CHAPTER 20, I thought I'd post the song titles I used as chapter title inspiration for 11-20 (the ones I remember!). For this fic, I tend to listen to one song on a loop while I write certain chapters, and then I'll include a snippet of the song's lyrics into the chapter title. Seems to work for this story—dunno why. Enjoy!

11\. In Your Eyes –Peter Gabriel

12\. Seven Wonders –Fleetwood Mac

13\. Spirits –The Strumbellas

17\. I'm Goin' Down –Bruce Springsteen

18\. Never Surrender –Corey Hart

19\. Under Your Spell –Desire

20\. Change of Heart –The 1975


	21. Mirrored in Your Eyes

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 21: Mirrored in Your Eyes**

Ben Solo had been here before.

Granted, that had been eighteen years ago. With much different company. But the cantina had stayed relatively the same. Perhaps more paint chipping on the brown walls, which revealed stains of various colors. Perhaps fewer patrons. But it was still the same dive. When he closed his eyes, he recalled it like it was yesterday.

 _"Remember, Ben," Skywalker said. "Whatever happens in there, don't be afraid, and follow my lead."_

 _The eleven year-old Ben Solo gulped. "I-I will, Uncle Luke."_

 _The Jedi's face became an expressionless mask, probably preparing himself for the inevitable confrontation._

 _Part of Solo longed to be able to control his emotions like his uncle could, to step free of the label of CHILD and become something more. Yet, another part of him still craved attention and longed for the comfort he could not always find from a mother who was too busy trying to save the galaxy and a father who enjoyed racing from one corner of it to another._

 _Before they stepped inside, Ben tugged on his uncle's cloak._

 _"Is it necessary?" he asked._

 _Luke paused, softening. "Yes, Ben."_

 _"But what do you expect to find in there?"_

 _"What do_ you _sense?" Skywalker threw back at him._

 _Ben closed his eyes and let his emotions dip into the dwelling like a sponge. There were flashes of humor, deep pools of depravity, touches of another emotion he didn't recognize until years later—lust. There was nothing "happy" in the sense of compassion or kindness, emotions that Ben had been thoroughly taught to appreciate in others. It was mostly awash in…_

 _"Greed," he said, licking his lips._

 _But Ben didn't reveal the flickers of evil he had felt hidden underneath that greed. It was the same evil that permeated the artificial roots of the entire moon of Nar Shaddaa._

 _An unexpected smile caught the edges of Luke's lips and turned them upwards, his eyes looking through Solo and into the past._

 _"Good. Greed is what we will use to bargain for information the Rebels desperately need."_

 _Solo sighed wistfully, resigned to go along with his uncle and obey orders._

 _As they opened the doors to the café, Skywalker muttered, under his breath, "I trust it would be harder to find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy…"_

"BEN!"

Solo sucked in his breath and found himself back in the present, seated at a table in the corner beside the traitor. He felt more awake, the neural inhibitor blocking his powers, yet not encroaching upon the clarity of his thoughts. Still, best to keep Finn believing that he was one reactor short of a Death Star. His feigned incompetence would come in handy before the end of the mission.

"All right, all right," he mumbled as Finn let out a frustrated sigh and ordered two drinks. As they settled into their surroundings (dim lighting, sticky table, an unidentifiable stench), Finn maintained a steady frown on his face. Ben forced himself not to laugh. The ex-stormtrooper was a decent actor, but he had a lot to learn about gathering intel from lowlifes. Then again, he supposed having a conscience would hold sway over one's ability to lie and play a false role. For Ben Solo, it was easy.

Or was it?

"Take a deep breath," said Ben to the other man, "and grip your drink like this." He demonstrated with his own hands, folding them together in front of the frosted blue container. "It won't stop your hands from shaking, but it will make them less noticeable."

Finn glowered at him then mirrored Solo's gesture. "Thanks," he said curtly.

Ben shrugged, meaning to show disinterest, but the gesture hid his own surprise at how he had helped Finn. Since when did he care about the traitor?

 _Since the traitor had elected you to do all of his dirty work for him. And if he gets blasted to bits,_ you _get blasted to bits._

Solo audibly sighed.

 _Just get the whereabouts of the holocron and deliver them to Snoke. Order will be restored to the Galaxy, and you will be the next Supreme Leader._

 _But Rey… And Dameron…_

Now that Ben was away from the _Falcon_ and his mind was thinking more clearly, he began to drift back to former glories and aspirations. He was _still_ the most powerful Dark Lord in the galaxy. What Snoke had taught him to crave—the power of the Dark Side of the Force—still lingered in his conscious mind. It was as if his dreams were riding upon a seesaw; would this inner conflict never cease?

And it all came down to forgiveness. Would his mother ever truly, despite her love and attention to him over the past few months, forgive him for killing his own father?

Ben Solo swallowed. He was an outcast. Born an outcast, and destined to forever live as one too.

It was Finn's enormous, jaw-cracking yawn that brought Ben back to the present once more, rather than an admonishment for daydreaming from the other man. Finn's eyes were glassy, and his face was drawn, exhaustion clearly causing him to lose focus at this crucial moment. Solo fleetingly thought that he should take advantage of Finn's waning energy to get a message to the bar owner, a stooped and slender creature with a trailing aquamarine proboscis and flitty tangerine eyes.

"I have to…" Ben mumbled, indicating the nearest loo. "Freshen up."

Finn's eyes narrowed. "Fine. I'm going to get the bartender over here. Start digging for information."

Solo began to slink away when he felt a hand tug on his sleeve. He whirled around in annoyance.

"Don't try anything," Finn said, and indicated the blaster attached to his belt. "I'll be watching the door. If you're not out in five minutes—"

"I don't need reminding that I'm your prisoner," Solo said, venom thick in his voice before it dropped to a lethal whisper. "Let me go."

Finn's eyes glared daggers as he released Ben's arm, and the man who used to be Kylo Ren stumbled across the tavern. Although he seemed oblivious to those around him, Solo was keenly aware of every creature in the establishment, from the being behind the bar to the two humanoids grumbling over winnings in the back, to the ancient Cerean with enormous spectacles, who was writing in a dense tome with thin blocks of graphite.

The writer sat adjacent to the toilets. Ben slinked into the safety of their shadows and waited until Finn left his seated position in the corner and sauntered over to the bartender, beaming.

 _He plays a good Han Solo_ , Ben thought humorlessly. _Better than I ever could._

When Solo was assured that Finn was completely preoccupied with his conversation, he hunched over by the cone-headed humanoid. His right hand spread out as he had seen his uncle do in the exact same spot so many years ago, reaching into the mind of the other being, bending its will to acquiesce.

 _You will give me the information I seek._

"You will give me paper and a writing utensil."

The old creature's response was delayed. It wheezed, its eyes blinking owlishly behind the thick oval glasses. And then, hesitantly, it placed a sheet of crinkled tan paper in his hands, followed by a thin rectangle of black graphite.

Ben glanced at Finn to make sure the transaction went unnoticed. Sure enough, the ex-stormtrooper was headed back to the booth in the corner, bartender in tow.

"You could have _asked_ me for the paper."

Solo looked down in shock at the wrinkled old face of the Cerean, its conical cranium cocked and examining him curiously. Ben felt a strange blush creep over his face.

"Sorry," he murmured, though it sounded more like a cough, and he shuffled into the lavatory.

The inside of the loo was dirtier than the café itself, if such a thing was possible. The grime was caked on thicker, the smell more noxious. The only thing that was improved upon was the lighting, which shone blindingly down on the sickly green walls of the lavatory, casting odd shadows. Once inside, Ben Solo checked the stalls for occupants, and when he was sure he was alone, he gripped the edge of the sink and gazed at himself in the chipped mirror.

His appearance was fractured, but he saw himself clearly enough. And what he saw surprised him: a clarity in his dark eyes, a hint of color in his cheeks. With a finger, he traced the almost invisible line where Rey's (Luke's) lightsaber had sliced through his cheek. The movement made him shiver because he could still feel the hiss and burn of the saber against his flesh, contrasting with the icy chill of snowflakes melting upon his skin.

Another shudder ran through him as he recalled the first time he had ever touched his uncle's lightsaber. The first time he had visited Nar Shaddaa… It had been in this very building…

 _"We're here for some information."_

 _The café was very dark and smelled very bad. Ben buried his nose in the collar of his jacket and tried to breathe through his mouth. Why did his uncle insist on taking him along on these errands? He wanted nothing more than to be back on Yavin 4, running beneath the canopy of trees so tall they could have reached the stars._

 _"I have no information," the proprietor said with a sneer. He was an old man with cruel amethyst eyes and tufts of grey hair sticking out of his nose. It made Ben want to gag._

 _The Padawan expected Skywalker to retaliate. That is what_ he _would have done if someone acted so insolently to him. Therefore, it shocked Ben when his uncle only smiled softly, and his voice dropped into a low purr, left hand circling almost imperceptibly out of its large sleeve._

 _"You will give me the information I seek," Luke said, as unconcerned as if he was telling R2-D2 to run some routine diagnostics. The fingers on his left hand wavered, like playing an invisible harp._

 _Ben stood behind his robed uncle, just tall enough at this point in his rocky adolescence to peek over the older man's shoulder, mouth slightly agape. The trick had been so quick that he might have missed it had he not been paying close attention. And so gentle. Surely it wouldn't work without a physical threat._

 _But the proprietor's lavender eyes widened, and his hands quickly fumbled for a small disc in the folds of his robes._

 _"Here is the information," he said, dazed._

 _Skywalker immediately snatched the disc from the proprietor and beamed. Out of the side of his mouth, he said to Ben, "Walk to the door in a hurry. But don't look like you're in a hurry."_

 _Ben complied, shuffling his feet, and that's when the situation got a bit….dicey._

 _There were about five of them. Regulars or Empire sympathizers or bounty hunters. Solo didn't really get a good look at them—only the way their jaws clenched, muscles rippled, snarling noises emanating from their throats, and how they towered over the Jedi._

 _Perhaps his uncle had been getting rusty or just overly confident. Or perhaps it had been a test for him all along._

 _"Run!" he heard Skywalker shout gruffly amid the tangled bodies and pummeling fists._

 _Ben Solo surprised himself when he didn't obey his uncle's command. Instead, his hands found the smooth cylindrical weapon, kicked around and discarded in the fray. And when his hands touched the lightsaber, it was as if the sound in the establishment immediately cut off. Energy sang through his body, unlike anything he had ever felt before. It caused the hairs to stand up on his arms, his muscles to tingle. There was a sweet taste in the back of his throat._

 _It was Ben's first taste of_ power. _And he quite enjoyed the feeling._

 _He was vaguely aware of his uncle's eyes, shining through the darkness of the café. And if he had only waited a few minutes more, he might have been able to witness the Jedi's full control of the Force. But there was no time. Ben felt a blind panic that his uncle was going to be hurt, and once Skywalker was out of the way, his young apprentice would be next._

 _The lightsaber droned. Its green beam cut through the dimness of the bar like a spotlight. Solo remembered the way its glow reflected in the eyes of his uncle's attackers. The saber sat heavily in his palms, as if trying to slow him down. But Ben's mind fixated on the task at hand._

 _He didn't recall much of what followed, only that it happened in a matter of seconds, and when he was finished, the attackers were gone; some fled, some remained at his feet. Ben was only vaguely aware of the_ heat _of the weapon in his grasp and the dark liquid that now covered his hands, arms, speckled across his face. The lightsaber's emerald ray flicked off with the softest touch, and the weapon clattered to the floor._

 _The next thing Ben knew, his uncle gripped him by the arm, bending over. His eyes were… terrible._

 _"What have you done?"_

 _But Ben couldn't form words. He was confused at first then he felt the familiar twinge of anger rush over him, hot and consuming. He grit his teeth. This was_ not _supposed to be his mentor's reaction._

 _"I…j-just saved you…"_

 _His indignation swiftly gave way to tears. All at once, it seemed that his entire face was wet, and his jaw was tight and aching from trying to suppress feelings._

 _Instantly, Luke's face changed to one of worry, and his voice softened. "Are you hurt?"_

 _A small little sound escaped from Ben's throat as his uncle scanned him then unceremoniously bundled him into his broad arms. Ben remembered his surprise when he felt the muscles in those arms—the copious folds of his Jedi robes hid them well. Skywalker delivered him to a small space that made his nose wrinkle with its smell—a bathroom, most likely—and placed him on a sink._

 _Silently, his uncle began using a damp cloth to wipe the blood from his face and hands as Ben cried all of the tears that he believed existed in his eleven year-old self, until he was dried-up. And when his emotions were spent, he rubbed his nose with one clean fist and took a deep shaky breath._

 _"Better?"_

 _Solo stared at the wall, numb._

 _"I did not intend for this to happen."_

 _Ben glanced at his uncle, realizing that it was Luke's form of an apology. That he was taking responsibility for the incident. And that irked him._

 _"I saved you," Ben repeated, wondering why his uncle didn't understand what had happened when it was so simple. Moreover, Skywalker seemed displeased with him._

 _"Yes," Luke said, a sad smile drifting across his face, "you did."_

 _Solo huffed. A small admission of the truth was better than none at all._

 _"Do not tell your mother what happened here."_

 _Ben nodded._

 _And then Skywalker led him out of the café they had entered. The bodies had miraculously disappeared where the duo had left them, only a bright stain of blood to remind Ben that they had even been there in the first place. The establishment had thinned considerably since the fight, but a hush covered them as they emerged from the bathroom._

 _His uncle tossed a few coins to the bartender. "Sorry for the mess."_

 _Ben Solo emerged into the polluted air of Nar Shaddaa a different person. He couldn't help feeling that he had done something taboo, that he had overstepped his bounds as a Padawan._

 _His mentor muttered to him before departing: "We will speak of this back on Yavin 4."_

 _"Yes, Uncle."_

 _Luke gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, but when Ben looked up into the Jedi's eyes, he did not see encouragement. In its place, he saw a flicker of fear. At the time, the emotion merely confused him, but it would soon grow to a sense of power that he longed to tap into._

Ben Solo stared at the cracked mirror and saw his fragmented image as a metaphor for his childhood. Luke Skywalker never got around to that conversation in the weeks and months after Ben's first memorable trip to Nar Shaddaa. Instead, his mentor barraged the young Padawan with numerous defensive techniques and meditation, never once mentioning the Jedi's most powerful weapon. In fact, Ben didn't touch a lightsaber again until two years later…

Hastily, Ben placed the sheet of paper he had obtained on the edge of the sink and began to write out a message in black chalk with a shaky hand.

TO: SUPREME LEADER SNOKE & GENERAL HUX OF THE FIRST ORDER

RE: RESISTANCE WEAPON

SEEKING HOLOCRON ON NAR SHADDAA. AWAIT MY COMMAND.

REN

Solo sighed heavily and tore the message from the sheet, crumpling it up and sticking it up his sleeve. Then he went about writing a duplicate message. This time he focused on keeping his hand steady. This message he hid in a jacket pocket.

He left the restroom in a hurry, passing the bespectacled Cerean only to backtrack and place the borrowed chalk on the table before him before rushing off. The Cerean blinked, bemused, in the young man's wake.

When he approached Finn, the ex-stormtrooper was speaking in emphatic low tones with the bartender.

 _Better have gotten all the intel we need so we can get out of here._

Solo didn't wish to spend another second in Hutta Town if he didn't have to.

Finn made hasty introductions. "Ben, this is Cor Bofis." While his lips remained in a thin neutral line, Ben was starting to register subtle hints of emotion that the other man displayed in his eyes—now they were brimming with excitement.

The bartender's orange eyes glowed evilly. "I know where you can find your holocron… for a price."

Ben instinctively leaned forward to threaten the blue-nosed buffoon, his fingers splayed, eyes wide, when he felt a boot kick his leg sharply underneath the table.

Finn stifled Ben's expletive yelp with a cough, never missing a beat, and produced a small leather pouch full of gold coins.

"You will be paid handsomely for any useful information."

Solo glared venomously at the ex-stormtrooper but held his tongue.

 _Bribery? Really? Amateur._

Cor Bofis licked his lips, a long pink tongue darting out between sharp teeth like a lizard. "Your holocron was likely taken by Grakkus the Hutt."

Both Finn and Ben let out a burst of disbelief.

"Impossible!" Finn exclaimed.

Bofis flipped his nose from left to right. "No, I swear. He's back on Nar Shaddaa. For good."

"Wasn't he arrested by the Empire?" Finn asked.

Solo mumbled, "Must have been released."

Bofis laughed, a nasally guffaw. "Didn't get off for good behavior, that's for sure."

Ben's mind whirled as he exchanged glances with Finn. He could tell the ex-stormtrooper was thinking along similar lines. If Grakkus was the one who stole the holocron, their mission had just become ten times more dangerous.

The bartender hunched over after scanning his cantina for any eavesdroppers. "As you know, Grakkus was known as a collector of Jedi artifacts. He would pay any price to add to his collection. Word is that after Grakkus returned to Hutta Town, he began to reclaim all of the items Darth Vader took when the Hutt was arrested. Now, there are two possible locations where you can find your holocron."

"Continue," Ben said, annoyed.

A poisonous grin flashed across Cor's face. "My bet is that Grakkus has the holocron in his private collection."

"Which is where…?" Finn asked.

"The palace of Grakkus, of course," said Bofis. "It's the largest, most heavily guarded building on Nar Shaddaa. So good luck trying to infiltrate it without first getting an audience with the Hutt."

"You said there might be a second location," said Ben.

Bofis nodded. "Word is that when Grakkus heard Darth Vader was on his way to arrest him, the Hutt ordered numerous Jedi artifacts to be smuggled off Nar Shaddaa and stored in a secret place, on another world."

The bartender paused, and Finn leaned forward. "Where?"

Bofis whispered, "I don't know."

At this, Ben reached forward, plucking Cor's dangling nose like a daisy and establishing a firm grip, eliciting a high-pitched gurgle from the bartender.

"Listen, Bofis. I am quickly losing patience—"

"Ben!" Finn shouted crossly.

"—with your lack of information—"

"Ben, let him go!"

Finn smacked his hand down, and Cor gasped, frantically massaging his nose.

"Th-The information would be s-stored in the Hutt's databanks, on board his ship. A Ch-Chelandion fleet. Y-you can find it in the flight records."

Solo knew the creature wasn't lying. He nodded to Finn, and the ex-stormtrooper tossed Cor the pouch of coins.

"You have been most helpful."

"Yes, thank you," Ben said, faking a smile and reaching his hand out.

Bofis looked at Solo's hand as if it was a venomous snake, but then slowly extended his own. As they shook, the expression on the bartender's face changed into confusion.

"Wait a minute."

Finn caught the bartender's hand before he recoiled and pried the scrap of paper loose, barely skimming its contents before crumpling it up and pocketing it. He glowered at Solo before standing.

"Nice try."

Ben smiled brightly. "It was worth a shot."

"C'mon."

As the two men sauntered out, Finn yawned furiously, swaying as he walked, and Solo saw his second chance.

The second scrap of paper dropped from his sleeve as he continued walking. Ben didn't even have to turn around to hear Bofis scramble to pick it up as they left. Because Solo knew what type of creature Cor Bofis was, and he wasn't the type to pass up any opportunity for profit. Kylo Ren's message would be on its way to the First Order in a matter of minutes.

As they stepped into the dry dust of Nar Shaddaa, Finn was already on his communicator to Rey.

"You were right; Grakkus the Hutt has it…. You and Poe can stick to the original plan. Ben and I will pick you up after checking out Grakkus' fleet… And Rey—be careful. This Hutt has an obsession with Jedis."

TBC

 **A/N:** Anyone still with me? Confession: I started getting really worried that I didn't have much time to write the past couple months, and that caused me to stress out even more, which caused me to stop writing altogether. So my new mantra is to constantly remind myself that this is something I DO FOR FUN and not to freak out about nonexistent deadlines. Of course, I still want to keep readers interested and make you folks happy, but finding balance is important too. ^_^ Thanks so much if you're still reading/reviewing this little fic. The next chapter is going to have lots of Poe and Rey—and it's gonna be awesome!


	22. Made of Lightning

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 22: Made of Lightning**

 _You are calm. You are cool. You are a Jedi. Sort of._

 _You are a Kenobi._

 _You can do this._

But Rey didn't feel very calm or cool at that moment—that glorious moment that so often happened in training with Master Luke—like a flash of lightning, the crash of waves, the fleeting magnetic touch of one with true insight—she was a bundle of nervous energy.

And she was practically glowing with it. It radiated from Rey to such an extent that she had to bow her head for fear that it was visible: a feeling of rare self-awareness where she wasn't thinking of past or future—only the immediate, the present, the "right now."

And how to describe "right now?"

She was standing on the twentieth floor of the Palace of Grakkus. Lots of silver. Lots of decorations. Very fancy. In front of Grakkus the Hutt. _The_ Grakkus the Hutt. He was not as bulbous as many of his infamous family members, but he was still a formidable presence, seated upon a throne (also made of silver), his brown-green tail twitching slightly.

 _Must have a silver fetish._ Rey winced. _And a Jedi fetish too. Don't forget it._

In fact, the great Grakkus was so serene it was difficult to imagine the Hutt with any extreme habits, but the young Jedi forced herself to focus on the _known_. This was a creature that had stolen numerous items from the ancient order, had taken something so precious that her parents had abandoned her to reclaim it. This was the Hutt who had somehow freed himself from the clutches of the Empire _and_ the First Order. This was the Hutt who had once established an arena of death, pitting species against each other for his own twisted pleasure.

Rey wore an earpiece and her hidden lightsaber underneath her all-black robes. She prayed silently she wouldn't have to use it until the very last possible second. More than a dozen guards flanked Grakkus, some standing at his side, some in the shadows behind her. They were all closely watching her, this young girl who brought something interesting at last to break up the monotony on Nar Shaddaa.

Faint static scratched in Rey's earpiece. She listened without showing emotions on her face.

"We're almost to the fleet," came Finn's voice. He sounded tired.

Overlapping with Finn's message, Grakkus chortled. "Who are you to demand so boldly to see the Great Grakkus, girl?"

Rey stood up straighter at the question, finding the courage to start speaking and hoping there would be no shake in her voice.

"I am a bounty hunter looking for an exchange."

Grakkus paused, his lazy eyes rolling, as large as flatbreads, towards the figure that stood directly in front of Rey.

"And what have you brought me?" the Hutt barked.

Rey said, "A Captain from the Resistance. Their best pilot. Poe Dameron."

* * *

Finn had been changing his opinion of Ben Solo during their mission together on Nar Shaddaa. Aside from his little trick with the bartender and initial clumsiness (likely an effect of the neural inhibitors) Solo had proved himself a master of stealth and intelligence gathering.

That is, until Finn urged Ben to "persuade" the Hutt's guard to let them into the main ship of the Chelandion fleet. Seconds later and the guard's eyes had glazed over, followed by screaming loud enough to wake Grakkus' entire security entourage. Finn had to finish the job himself and delivered a punch to the guard's face that sent him into silent oblivion.

"What was that?!" Finn whispered fiercely, nursing his fist.

"What do you mean?" Solo shot back, eyes dull, as if he was bored out of his mind.

"I thought you were gonna do the Jedi mind trick thing!"

"Oh," said Ben with a shrug. "I thought you meant what Snoke taught me."

Finn rolled his eyes. "Dare I ask what _that_ was?"

Solo began walking nonchalantly past the fleet of ships. "Force someone to comply, followed by making them sense they're being eaten from the inside out by the stomach acid of a Sarlacc."

The ex-stormtrooper sighed out loud and proceeded to clamber on board the main Chelandion, 800 meters long and covered in stunningly bright chrome. Finn stifled another yawn and stumbled slightly when he reached the top of the stairs. Fumbling for the hand railing, he was surprised when a firm hand steadied his arm.

Ben Solo looked up at him with eyebrows raised but said nothing, releasing him instantly.

Finn cleared his throat and continued through the airlock that swished open, willing himself to wake up. After all, they only had a limited amount of time before the guard regained consciousness.

 _When was the last time you slept?_

Finn couldn't remember but pushed the question from his mind. Rey was counting on them to find the whereabouts of the holocron. To find her parents.

"You remember the holocron's classification?" Finn asked Ben as he sat in the pilot's seat.

"Yes," replied Solo, sitting beside him. "It had very distinct markings."

"Well, let's hope the database isn't volumes and volumes long."

Finn's hope was short-lived when they soon found that Grakkus's off-world collection was far-reaching and extensive. He had not one but many "safe houses" and storage markers, and there were thousands of pages that outlined his collection.

"This could take days," Finn said, stifling another yawn, rubbing bleary eyes. He slammed his fist down on the console in front of him, causing several lights to blink on inside the ship. "And we have no way of knowing if it's even recorded on this computer or not. What if it's in Grakkus's Palace all along? We need to help Rey and Poe."

"Patience," Solo said beside him.

"We don't have time!" Finn shouted.

Then: "I found it."

Finn studied the computer database on the screen in front of Ben.

"You're sure?"

"Positive," Solo said soberly. "It's in the Outer Rim Territory. Oskides."

"Never heard of it," Finn mumbled. "Let's get out of here."

But just as they were about to flee the ship, blinding light flooded the cargo bay, and a voice from outside boomed on speakers:

"INTRUDERS. EXIT THE SHIP WITH YOUR HANDS UP. DO THIS, OR YOU WILL BE DESTROYED."

Solo's voice was low and serious. "We escape the vessel now and avoid capture. I can deflect some of their weapons."

"No," Finn said, dazed. "There's too many."

Guns were crowding up their view screen as the ex-stormtrooper flicked on more switches along the navigation panel. Inside the Chelandion, its engines were warming up. Finn had rudimentary knowledge of the controls. It might just be possible…

"Buckle up," Finn said.

A beat from Ben. "You can't be serious."

"What do they have? Blasters?" Finn's fingers flew over the helm's console, feeling vaguely satisfied with every _bloop_ and _bleep_ that he elicited. "We've got _turbolasers._ "

"THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING, INTRUDERS. EXIT THE SHIP WITH YOUR HANDS UP."

In the chaos of the moment, Finn felt a bubble of laughter rising out of his throat. He couldn't help it. The situation was just too priceless. He chanced a look at the stoic Solo, and the expression on Ben's face was nothing short of horrified.

"You are exhausted," Solo said, trying to stop Finn's hands. "You don't know what you're doing."

"Yes," Finn said, swatting Ben's away. "I _am_ exhausted. But I know _exactly_ what I'm doing."

He pressed a button close to his earpiece. "BB-8, get the _Falcon_ ready to depart. We'll be there soon."

A few cheerful _beeps_ in response and Finn whistled while Solo looked on in disbelief.

"Think about it. We've already got the holocron's exact location in this ship's databanks, correct?"

"Yes."

"So we just plot a course to Poshkitties—"

"Oskides—"

"Whatever. And we'll be there before Grakkus can say 'Who stole my best ship?'"

The vessel shuddered as Finn freed it from its tethers, and there was an initial round of blaster fire that caused them to quake in their seats before they were zooming past the guards and into the plume of pollution outside.

Finn whooped with joy at the exhilaration of movement and snuck a side-glance at his co-pilot. Ben Solo sat with his white fingers pressing deeply into the armrests. Tension radiated off every surface of his body.

The ex-stormtrooper slapped him on the back and chuckled good-naturedly. Solo just glared at him.

"You know," Finn said, willing the slur to leave his voice. "You're all right, Ben. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise."

"Even you?"

Finn paused and burst out laughing, the ship zooming in wide arcs as it coursed through the dense smog of the sunny day. He pressed another button on his earpiece. "Rey, we found the location of the holocron. We're headed your way. Meet us on the roof!"

* * *

Poe Dameron had never stood this close to a Hutt before, and he hoped he never had to again.

Luckily, the bandanna tightly covering his mouth also partly covered his nose, and thus he was spared the full impact of Grakkus' stench. It burbled out of his mouth every time he spoke, rich and earthy, like the fumes from a pod racer.

He hoped that Rey was able to hold it together long enough to get what she needed. And he hoped that Finn was able to get the information _he_ needed with Ben Solo in tow. And, above all, he hoped that Rey's knees weren't shaking nearly as much as his were. Still, he imagined that it added an air of authenticity to his performance. He _was_ supposed to be Rey's prisoner, after all. Helpless. Weaponless.

 _But not without a helpful tool_ , he thought wistfully, feeling the cold kiss of steel hidden up his pant leg. If only they could buy Finn and Ben a bit more time. It hadn't taken them nearly as long as Poe thought it would to be allowed into Grakkus' private chamber. They would need to stall.

 _C'mon, Rey,_ Poe thought desperately.

Grakkus chortled again (make it stop!) and sent a plume of foul air wafting towards Dameron. " _This_ is the best pilot in the Resistance? Let me get a better look at him."

Poe shuddered inwardly and began shuffling forward, but then Rey shoved him in the small of his back, causing him to crash downwards. He silently cried out, raising his handcuffed hands in defense, knowing they would do little to cushion the fall, but then it was as if invisible arms caught him at the last second, guiding him to the floor without any bruises. After the initial shock, Dameron groaned and rolled on his side to make it look good, narrowing his eyes at the young woman over his shoulder. In response, she spat at him. Underneath the wad of cloth, Poe grinned and gave Rey a thumbs-up. Grakkus' men would just assume he was a cocky pilot; they wouldn't see the gesture for what it truly meant.

 _This kid can really act._

"Resistance scum!" someone cursed from behind the silver throne, and Grakkus laughed in agreement.

"I don't admire your organization," gurgled Grakkus. "Although I have no love for your enemies either."

Dameron rose unsteadily and balanced on his knees, gauging the throng before him. This was the tricky part. With two earpieces to spare, only Rey and Finn could communicate between each other and BB-8 back on the _Falcon_. Therefore, only Rey knew if Finn had obtained the information they sought, whether they were free to get the hell out of there or if they had to stick around, bide time.

The giant worm wriggled out of his throne, slinking across the floor, his tail twitching from side to side like a discerning finger. Poe had seen quite a few Hutts in his time, but Grakkus was unlike any of them. He was faster, for sure. And although Hutts were known for their cunning, something behind his coral eyes that suggested depth and a capability for evil his brethren lacked the gumption for.

Grakkus circled around him, humming and and muttering under his foul breath.

"Must be a very _stupid_ pilot to be caught by a _girl_ ," Grakkus gargled, sneering at the immediate laughter from his posse that this comment brought. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Out of the shadows, an assistant roughly pulled the gag from his mouth. Poe swallowed, licking his dry lips. He moaned and clutched at his neck with his manacled hands, feigning pain.

Rey responded on his behalf, emotionless. "His vessel went down during the First Order's ambush near Devaron only a few days ago, and I captured him. He was injured in the throat somehow and cannot speak."

"And what would I possibly want with an injured Resistance pilot without a ship who cannot speak?" A few chuckles from the crowd.

Dameron tensed, preparing for a fight. _Now what?_

He was _not_ prepared for what Rey said next:

"Because this injured Resistance pilot without a ship who cannot speak is _actually_ a Jedi."

Poe's eyes widened. He swung his neck around to get a better look at Rey, who stood confidently behind him. Desperately, he tried to send her his thoughts: _Not good. SO not good. Not good at all. What the hell are you thinking?_ But if Rey heard Dameron's silent pleas, she didn't show it.

Grakkus' blob of a face emoted nothing but ennui, yet Poe could tell that he was interested when he leaned forward in his seat, and his tail waggled.

"I've never heard of him."

Rey sighed impatiently—so unlike her!—and rolled her eyes. "He's an _ex-_ Jedi."

"There is no such thing!" someone shouted.

"Oh," Rey said with a smile, "but there _is."_

Dameron realized his mouth was hanging open, and he consciously shut it.

"It's very rare," she continued, "but when a Jedi gives up his or her allegiance to both the Light _and_ the Dark sides, they are shunned by their former mentors and are forced to go into hiding, or assume a false identity. Which is what Poe Dameron did."

 _This is getting better and better_ , thought Poe. _Just hope she can keep this up for another five minutes._

There was a flurry of movement and whispers in Grakkus' assembly. Could it be true? Could this Resistance pilot truly be a Jedi in disguise?

Grakkus never once took his eyes off Poe.

"Prove it."

Dameron's heart beat faster. _Just great._

"He has vowed to never use his abilities again," Rey interjected.

"Then how do I know he is what you say he is?!" Grakkus bellowed, fire dancing in the Hutt's eyes. He nodded sluggishly to his minions, and two frighteningly large men strode forward, flanking Poe on each side. One raised a blaster to Dameron's temple.

"Wait—" Rey said. "Please—"

"Prove that you have the power of a Jedi, or you will die."

The man with the blaster wrenched his shoulder up and back, holding his head in position beside the blaster. Poe winced. He had officially reached full-on panic mode.

 _It was nice knowing you, Rey._

"And what of my fee?" Kenobi said, her voice becoming higher-pitched.

"If he dies, you will receive a token for your inconvenience, my dear."

Rey must have stepped forward behind him because the other man holding him back left his post, and there was a squeal from Rey.

Everything stilled and became so quiet that Poe heard his own heart beat in his chest.

"I will count to three, and then you die," said Grakkus. "One…"

Dameron thought: _Well, it was nice knowing you, Rey._

"Two…"

 _Say goodbye to BB-8 for me…_

"Three—"

Poe cringed, anticipating the shot, but there was nothing. Then came the sound of the blaster clattering to the floor beside him, the crowd murmuring in wonder. And when Dameron's tightly shut eyes opened, the man who had once held the blaster was nowhere to be seen. It was only when he followed Grakkus's astonished stare that he saw the goon floating fifteen feet above him in the air.

Poe's heart soared, and he instantly looked at Rey, but her face was a model of surprise.

Then he heard the young woman's voice in his mind, calm and clear:

 _Stand._

So Poe stood, slowly, steadily, his gaze leveled, ready for Rey's next command.

 _Spread out your arms._

With complete delight, Dameron gradually extended his his manacled limbs towards the gargantuan Hutt before him, fingers splayed, simulating a look of perfect concentration on his face.

The Hutt's eyes widened in surprise as the massive figure slowly began to ascend from his throne, spinning slowly in the air to the sound of cries and agitated shouts from his host of onlookers. The Hutt spiraled up in the air, his muffled protestations the sound of pillows being violently fluffed.

"—enough!" Rey's frightened cry startled Poe, his chains clanking against him as he whipped around, not anticipating the rough way she pushed him to the floor, fist raised to pummel his face.

"Stop her!" came Grakkus's command from roughly twenty-five feet above their heads. "Do not let her harm the Jedi!"

Dameron had to bite his lip to keep from smiling as guards dragged Rey away from him. Instead, he focused his efforts on pretending to have the powers of a Jedi, fingers twirling as the Hutt slowly drifted to the ground.

Grakkus's eyes were glazed, a profound change from before. Now the Hutt looked upon Poe with respect, fear, and something else… Dameron's skin began to prickle when he realized the emotion was _desire._

"You shall have your full fee," Grakkus said to Rey without taking his eyes off the Resistance pilot. Poe shuddered when the Hutt's tongue slid out of his mouth like a snake. More guards were at Dameron's side now, flanking him, drawing him closer to Grakkus's silver throne. Fairly soon, Poe was inches away from the Hutt, its foul breath rotting and seeping into his pores.

Dameron projected to Rey: _I hope you know what you're doing._

Rey's voice shot across the room, echoing. "You were right about one thing today, Grakkus. There _is_ a Jedi in your midst. But it's not him."

The throneroom crackled with energy, both real and imagined, and several things happened at once.

Grakkus shouted in bursts of unidentifiable commands, onlookers baring various weapons swarmed the duo from the shadows, Poe dove from their clutches, and Rey… Rey was everywhere at once. Dameron had a difficult time pinning down her exact location in the ensuing mayhem, only that at some point she pulled her lightsaber from where it was hidden in the folds of her clothes, and it proceeded to illuminate the room, boldly verifying her previous statement.

Rey was not one to be trifled with.

She bore down on the multitude of goons, and Poe had to yank his eyes away from the attack that followed because it was too enthralling, a beautiful, horrible dance.

He dealt with some of the Hutt's followers via simple kicks, using the chain that tied his hands together to choke off enemies that got too close, getting caught up in the rhythm. And, through it all, he stayed calm and calculated his opponents' movements. He was getting back some of his old spunk, and it stirred inside him, thrilling him.

The floor was a mass of moaning bodies, but more goons continued advancing upon them, and Dameron became fully absorbed in pushing them back. In fact, Poe was so lost in the fight that he almost didn't see Rey until she was standing beside him, its green hue shining in her eyes.

"Finn just contacted me. They're on their way."

Poe flashed a surprised look her way.

"They stole one of Grakkus's ships," she explained breathlessly, dodging a blow and swinging her lightsaber like a skillful blade. "We need to get to the _Falcon_."

Dameron grunted an assent when one of their attackers flattened him. Air escaped his lungs, and he gasped, holding his bound hands up in defense. But rather than meeting a fatal blow, the singing glow of Rey's Jedi weapon cut through the chains that connected his wrists, freeing him.

Rey winked and grabbed his right arm, hoisting him to his feet. With a flick, the lightsaber switched off, and she tossed it to Poe. He caught it, eyes widening, still trying to catch his breath.

"Go!" she shouted. "I'll hold them off!"

With that, Dameron ran like a Teek, dodging the Hutt's men left and right. Some attackers leaned towards him only to be flung aside, as if an invisible hand had pulled them backwards by their collars. Poe smirked and ran to the massive windows that paneled the left-hand wall of the twentieth floor.

Knowing he had little time, Poe switched the lightsaber on. It kicked in his grasp, and he wielded it with both hands, cutting a clear line through one of the windows to send its glass crashing onto the floor and into the air, fine shards like crystal coating his flight suit. Swiftly, Dameron removed the grappling spike launcher from underneath his left pant leg and reached outside the window, pointing upwards, pulling the trigger.

A line shot into the air, and its spike landed on the side of the roof. Poe tugged on the thin rope, checking for stability, turned off Rey's lightsaber, clipped it to his utility belt, and began to climb.

The first story wasn't so difficult, and neither was the second or third. But by the fourth floor, with only one more to go, a gust of wind sent Dameron crashing into the building, cracking one of its large windows and sending a spike of pain through his shoulder. That's when Poe abruptly looked down.

And that was a big mistake.

Instant spirals of vertigo made him dizzy, and tendrils of familiar fear and insecurities caressed his consciousness. The pilot broke into a cold sweat, grit his teeth. He felt a tug on the rope beneath him and knew that Rey was on her way.

Poe closed his eyes and willed the fear to go away go away GO AWAY.

Since when was Poe Dameron afraid of heights? He reveled in the soaring leap of flying in Black One. He could remember endless summer days from his childhood of climbing trees, swinging from limb to limb without fear. A fleeting memory of the day Ben Solo climbed the great Massassi tree in his backyard and became stuck at the top, paralyzed with fear.

 _And you helped him down. You weren't afraid then._

Rey was shouting something below him, but she was too far away, and the wind whipped through her words, whistling in his ears, swinging him lazily from side to side. He wiped his slippery hands on his suit, one at a time, and then he began to climb again. His body shook each time one hand reached for the rope above him, but he made steady progress, eyes still closed.

He was nearly to the top, only a few feet away from the roof when he froze again.

 _I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't—_

And then a hand touched his shoulder, causing him to flinch.

 _Finn…?_

"No, it's me."

His eyes flashed open. It definitely wasn't Finn.

"I've got you."

Mouth open in shock, Poe Dameron felt Ben Solo's strong arms pull him upwards and onto the roof of the palace.

TBC

 **A/N:** This was the most enjoyable chapter for me to write in a looooong time. Hope you enjoyed reading it! Lots of love and thanks and cyber cupcakes (as always) to my reviewers. Let me know what you think!

 **Update:** Just edited one of the last sentences and re-posted the chapter after realizing that I had accidentally allowed Poe to speak again a bit prematurely... haha You'll have to wait another chapter or two for that, but it's going to happen soon!


	23. A Certain Kind of Sadness

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 23: A Certain Kind of Sadness**

 **Warning:** Violence, tiny bit of gore

"He okay?!" Rey said to Ben. Seconds ago, she had flung herself on the rooftop of Grakkus' palace to find Solo helping Poe to his feet and dusting him off.

"No harm done," said Ben, dark eyes alert—alive. They were filled with a power that made Rey hesitate.

 _Did we do the wrong thing? Have we let a monster out of his cage?_

"Poe?" Ben said, placing a steadying hand on the other man's shoulder as he faltered. Solo's voice was inexplicably gentle.

Rey also put a hand on the pilot's other shoulder. Dameron's eyes fluttered and then opened wide.

 _He can feel our energy_ , she thought. _He can feel the Force within us._

Then Poe broke into a rare smile that seemed to say: _We did it._

"Yes, we did. We successfully tricked one of the most ruthless Hutts this galaxy has ever seen."

"NOW THAT YOU'VE HAD YOUR MOMENT…" Finn's voice sliced through the air from a gigantic silver beast of a craft some thirty yards away, parked beside the _Falcon._ "CAN WE _PLEASE_ GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE?"

Rey tilted her head. "Finn sounds tired."

"He is," Ben acknowledged solemnly.

"Will he let you pilot…"

BB-8's frantic beeps and boops interrupted her question to Ben. They watched the droid jiggle in place beside Han Solo's old vessel, seconding Finn's command to leave post-haste. Dameron started to head toward his old companion at a quick trot.

"So that's Grakkus' ship," Rey breathed.

Ben nodded and said, "A Chelandion. It holds the coordinates to Grakkus' hiding place on Oskides. I've set a course. Follow us in the _Falcon,_ and we will—"

But his words were cut off by a loud whistling sound. At that moment, a dozen spike launchers dug their metallic claws into the edge of the roof a few feet from where they stood.

"Go," Solo whispered.

Rey raced towards the _Falcon_ , hearing the shocking _zap-screech-zap_ of blaster fire; red beams shot past her. Then, in front of her, came a high-pitched scream. Blue electricity crackled around BB-8's shell, and the droid swiveled backwards in place. Beside it, Poe let out a silent scream and raised his blaster. The shot connected with BB-8's attacker, a chartreuse-colored Hutt. Rey noticed that it was a relatively small one—perhaps young? The following deep bellow came from a voice she recognized well. It was Grakkus!

The great slug had been hoisted up the side of his grand building by grappling wire, and he now advanced towards them. Rey was surprised at how _fast_ the creature moved for its girth. On sturdy metal claws, Grakkus scuttled past her towards Dameron like a gigantic centipede. But the pilot had already disappeared up the _Falcon's_ gangplank, pulling the unresponsive BB-8 after him.

Rey chanced another backwards glance and saw another awesome sight: Ben Solo faced ten goons with zero cover. In the length of one heartbeat, all ten of them fired rounds at the former Knight of Ren. He merely raised one hand, and all the red sparks from their blasters froze in mid-air, hovering.

Mesmerized, she couldn't take her eyes away from the sight.

 _The power._

"Go away," Ben Solo inadvertently said under his breath, but Rey knew he wasn't talking to Grakkus' mercenaries. His eyes flashed to something on his left, some _one_ who wasn't there. Rey remembered what Ben had told her in his cell—his _father_ was haunting him. _Han Solo._

"Leave me. Leave me now!"

With a burst of anger, Ben's fingers spread out like a star, sending the blaster rounds arcing away from him. All ten lasers zoomed backwards, striking their original senders. Ten goons hit the roof like a tidal wave. Solo's shoulders slumped, and he pivoted around. His eyebrows arched quizzically at her, and he shrugged. The former dark lord didn't notice one of the mercenaries get to his hands and knees, raise his blaster, aim it for for his back-

"Ben!" Rey screamed.

Solo spun around and raised his right hand, curling his fingers into a fist. The goon's blaster clattered to the rooftop, and his hands immediately went to his throat. Rey's eyes widened in surprise.

 _He's choking that man…_

"Ben!" she cried. "Ben, stop!"

Momentarily distracted, Rey never sensed Grakkus' blade coming until it was too late. She twisted at the sense of energy on her left side, but Grakkus caught her on her right. Rey doubled over, feeling the cold metal stab into her abdomen. Grakkus snorted and towered above her as she groaned.

 _Stupid. Stupid. How could you let your defenses down?_

"I know who you are," the Hutt said, his foul breath wrinkling her nose. Pain spiked from her side, rolling over her body in waves. "I knew your mother. Her name was _Kira._ I learned later that she was a _Kenobi._ I should have known not to trust her from the very moment she entered my chamber. She came here for the same information you seek. And I stabbed her _the same way_. She was like you. A Jedi. But a Jedi I cannot own and cannot tame is a _useless_ Jedi. She crawled back to her ship after I wounded her. And she left this place. Too bad you won't be able to do the same…"

The Hutt gurgled, muttering obscenities under his breath, and lifting his small dagger to deliver a final, fatal cut. Through her pain, Rey wondered if she would be able to fight back. Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a palm outstretched, not touching the Hutt physically, but connecting with Grakkus' body in a way that was far more effective. With Ben Solo's energy, the Hutt's eyes rolled into his enormous skull, and his massive body crumpled, metal legs spasming.

"Th-thanks," Rey said shakily, swallowing back light-headedness. She focused her thoughts, trying to control the pain. Her eyes flashed to Solo's. "What _was_ that?"

"Pressure points," said Ben simply, and his eyes flicked to his right, but there was nothing there.

"P-pressure points for a Hutt." Rey tried to smile, but it turned into a grimace. "S-sounds like important information."

"I'll teach them to you some day," Solo said and helped her up. When she gasped sharply, he stopped.

"You're hurt."

"It's nothing," she said too quickly.

"You're _hurt_ ," the tall man said, simultaneously gripping her arm and kicking the fallen Grakkus. His eyes were black marbles, seething, his mouth pressed into a thin line. The Jedi had seen this look on Solo's face before—it was a look that preceded outbursts of pure rage.

Taking tentative steps to minimize the pull on her side, Rey steered him away from the heap of Hutt. Behind them, the fallen goons were beginning to stir.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "We have to go."

"Something else happened," Solo said, placing a hand on her shoulder that was both placid and probing.

For a moment, Rey Kenobi longed to fall into his embrace, to cry out and give up. But she couldn't—not now, not yet.

Her face felt hot, her side slick with blood. She indicated Grakkus. "My mother was here."

Solo's mouth opened with astonishment.

Rey swallowed hard. "She must have been after the same information we were after. He… He hurt her."

"Rey—"

"Send us the coordinates," she said, brushing tears out of her eyes and limping away. "We'll follow you out of the system."

Rey didn't look back to see Ben Solo's expression. She was too focused on the task at hand. She _had_ to get to Oskides and find out the truth. She _had_ to find her parents.

The Jedi found Poe hunched over BB-8's charred and immobile figure as soon as she stepped into the _Falcon_. Before he could notice her, she gingerly pulled a dark brown coat over her shoulders to hide her side wound. She would attend to the injury once they were on Oskides.

Rey put a tender hand on Poe's shoulder.

"How is BB?" she queried softly.

Her heart almost broke when Dameron looked up at her, and she saw the tears in his eyes. He shook his head, his hands spread over the droid's burned shell.

"We'll fix it," said Rey gently. "But we have to go now."

The pilot lingered by BB-8's side.

 _"Poe,"_ she said, willing her voice to be stronger. "I can't steer the _Falcon_ without you."

At last, Dameron nodded sadly and pulled himself away from the droid. After rushing to the helm, Rey felt a metallic _tap tap_ on her wrist. When she looked down, she saw her lightsaber. Poe managed a small smile, his eyes full of gratitude.

"Ready?" Rey said, taking the Jedi weapon from her friend.

In response, Dameron's fingers flew across the _Millennium Falcon's_ panel.

* * *

Finn had fallen asleep.

It wasn't until he heard the metallic clanking sound of boots in the hall behind him that the ex-stormtrooper jerked awake. He leveled his blaster at the doorway, breathing a sigh of relief and lowering it when he saw Solo.

"It took you long enough!" Finn shouted as Ben joined him in the pilot's seat. He held up his right thumb and index finger together. "I was _this_ close to running out there myself and dragging your butt back in here. What happened?!"

"There was an…. altercation," said Solo quietly. Finn noticed that the other man was _trying_ to appear nonplussed but kept glancing at his right, as if there was something out of place or distracting there.

"Are Rey and Poe all right?" Finn said, too tired to hide the worry in his tone.

Ben hesitated, exhaling. "Yes."

Finn studied Solo closely.

"Are _you_ all right?"

"I recommend leaving as soon as possible," said Ben, ignoring him. "It is likely that Grakkus will send the rest of his fleet to reclaim this vessel. And we can't fight an entire fleet."

"No, really?" Finn said sarcastically, punching buttons on the control panel, and they were in the air.

Beside him, Solo also worked on a control panel. "I'm submitting coordinates to the _Falcon_. Rey and Dameron will follow us."

Finn's exhausted brain was barely able to follow the directions, but with Solo's help, he managed to keep the Chelandion in the sky. Soon, they were zooming out of the dense, polluted atmosphere of Hutta Town, and he accelerated the craft until Nar Shaddaa was just an ivory pinprick in the vastness of space.

"Good riddance," Finn spat. "I hope I never see that moon ever again."

The ex-stormtrooper pressed a palm across his face, massaging his cheeks and trying to stop his vision from blurring. If only he could take a 12-hour nap.

Finn remained on alert for about half an hour on their way to Oskides, but when the Chelandion's sensors picked up no trace of Grakkus' fleet, Finn assumed they weren't being followed. His eyes were about to slip shut again when he heard a familiar _clicking_ noise; it was the sound of a container being opened.

"You don't need that stuff," said Finn sharply, making Ben freeze in his tracks.

The ex-dark lord had a neural inhibitor in his hand, and it appeared that he had been about to swallow it.

"You don't know what it's like," said Ben.

Finn's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was expecting a nasty remark from Solo—at the very least, a snarky comment. He was not expecting honesty.

The ex-stormtrooper argued, "What if we run into trouble? I'll need you alert."

Solo looked down at the tablet in his palm. He seemed to consider Finn's words. Then he looked to his right again sharply, wincing.

 _Annnnd we're back to the crazy._

"It's too painful," said Ben, his voice becoming even softer, pleading. " _Please_."

Finn threw up his hands. "I'm not your guardian. Do what you need to do."

As Ben dry-swallowed the neural inhibitor, Finn grabbed a toggle switch on his right, pulling it back and launching them into hyperspace.

Within seconds, a small green planet came into view, wreathed by whisps of white clouds.

"Oskides," Ben noted.

"Let's hope it's better than Nar Shaddaa," said Finn.

Rey's voice suddenly piped into their helm. Her voice was raspy—or perhaps it was just static?

"I've pinpointed the location of Grakkus' storage compound. It appears abandoned. No life signs immediately nearby. It's off a coast range, maybe five miles inland."

"Copy," said Finn through the communicator.

He was about to make his approach towards the planet when Ben interrupted with a whisper: "Finn."

"Oh, so _now_ it's 'Finn?' What about 'Traitor?' I thought _that_ was your preferred nickname for me."

"Finn…"

"What about 'Renegade?' Or 'Treasonist?' I like the sound of that one—"

"FINN!"

" _What_?" the ex-stormtrooper growled.

Solo's voice was a soft purr. "Grakkus's fleet."

A dozen or so ships materialized out of hyperspace within seconds of each other, surrounding the _Falcon_ and Chelandion in a half-circle.

"There's only one way," came Rey's strained voice. "Down."

"We'll cover you!" Finn shouted through the comm. He turned to Ben. "Can you fly this thing?"

Ben nodded, his hands moving fluidly over the controls, and they were swooping down low. Shots from the pursuing fleet skidded across their hull, but Finn took over weapons, and cheered as he gave their enemies a taste of the Chelandion's turbolasers.

Blasts rocketed the ship.

"Shields are weakening!" Finn yelled.

Beside him, Solo was maneuvering the ship effortlessly, his face an expressionless mask. "The Chelandion have always had poor shields."

 _At least these things have strong armor_ , Finn thought. He aimed once more and fired the turbolasers, watching their blue light streak across the black canvas of space. A smaller ship exploded, then a second. One of the Hutt's larger vessels was severely damaged.

Finn said, almost delirious with the sudden adrenaline of battle, "Ben—did you _see_ that?" But his stomach rushed up in a _woosh_ , and they were zooming lower, trailing after the _Falcon._

 _The Hutt's gang isn't after Rey and Poe_ , Finn thought, trying to find a silver lining. _They only want their ship back._

But unless the fleet drastically changed tactics, they would have a poor chance of capturing them. Once Ben took them past Oskide's exosphere, the ships peeled off of their pursuit, two at a time. It was the first taste of freedom that Finn had felt in a few days, and he pumped his fist in the air, slapping Solo on the back and not caring that the other man responded with an annoyed glare. Directly beneath them, the sun was going down on Oskides, a warm orange glow upon the ocean's horizon. Through the view screen, the Chelandion glided across crystal blue water, a lush green forest on their left. Compared to the stale pollution, dust, and heat of Nar Shaddaa, this was paradise.

"We did it!" Finn said, more to himself than Ben. Then he reached for his communicator. "Rey—we did it!"

"Copy, Finn." She sounded _less_ than enthused. "We've landed."

"We're right behind you," said Finn. "See you in a few minutes."

Rey said, "Copy. Over and out."

 _Maybe she's tired. I'm tired. We're all tired…_

The imminent threat of destruction removed, Finn found himself sagging in his chair. He noticed Ben do the same, the man's eyes glassy. The neural inhibitor was probably starting to kick in.

"Hey… I'll fly the rest of the way."

Ben sluggishly met his gaze. His mouth quirked into a small smile, more proof that the neural inhibitors were taking over.

"You….can't even sit upright," Solo stated.

Finn considered this, folding his arms. Then he waved his arm across the view screen and leaned back in his pilot's chair, not even bothering to stifle a yawn. "Carry on, Ensign Solo."

Finn had _just_ closed his eyes when the alarm started.

He jerked up in his seat and reflexively checked the sensors. "Those bastards changed their minds?!" he said, astonished.

The ex-stormtrooper was expecting his scans to show a trail of enemy ships in pursuit. Which is why it puzzled and terrified him when he found nothing.

Beside him, Ben had gone even paler than usual.

"It's much worse."

Solo took his hands off the controls. Finn realized they were shaking.

"What is it?"

When Ben didn't answer, Finn grabbed his sleeve, and the other man flinched.

"What _is_ it?!"

Through the Chelandion, a woman's voice called, somewhat pleasantly: " _One minute until automatic self-destruct sequence is complete_."

Finn's eyes widened. "That's not possible…"

" _Forty-five seconds_ ," chimed the woman's voice.

Solo was hunched over, his eyes lost. Finn saw that he was deep inside himself, somewhere possibly unreachable. And that almost scared the ex-stormtrooper more than their current situation.

" _Thirty seconds_."

"Must've activated a remote destruct system," Ben mumbled. "Interesting…"

"Oh, HELLS," said Finn and grabbed Solo by his jacket, pulling him upright and dragging him towards the escape hatch.

" _Twenty seconds_."

"You know," said Finn as they scrambled for the exit. "If someone had told me 24 hours ago that I'd be stumbling over myself to save you, I would have not-so-nicely laughed in their face…"

" _Ten seconds. Ten. Nine—"_

"So, in case we don't see each other again…"

" _Eight. Seven. Six—"_

Finn smiled at Ben's gawking face. "I don't really want you to die anymore."

 _"Five—"_

Finn hurtled the escape hatch open and staggered back with the force of the wind beneath them, just above the surface of the waves.

" _Four—"_

He caught Ben's gaze, and the two simultaneously jumped from the craft.

Finn hit the stinging water only seconds before the explosion. The sound was muffled under the surface but still so loud that it caused a shockwave to ripple through the ocean. Finn jerked backwards as if he had been punched, all the air in his lungs floating in bubbles away from him. His chest burning, the ex-stormtrooper propelled himself to the surface.

When he broke through the waves, Finn took a deep lungful of air and instantly started coughing. The atmosphere was filled with thick black smoke. Burning chunks of the destroyed Chelandion zoomed through the air, landing all around him. It was chaos.

Wretching, his eyes watering, all Finn wanted was to survive and escape. But the dense smoke was all-encompassing, claustrophobic.

Then he remembered, through his oxygen-deprived brain: _Solo was with me._

"Ben!" he cried, choking on saltwater as the ocean bobbed Finn up and down. That's when a flaming chunk of debris broke into pieces, like a meteor, and landed only a few feet from where he drifted. Splashing in the water, a section of the debris hit Finn's right temple, sending him crashing backwards, under the roiling waves.

TBC

 **A/N:** I have been terrible. I have been awful. I temporarily gave up this fic. But a recent discovery of "Poe Dameron" Marvel comics has given me an unexpected burst of inspiration. I can't say my updates will be as frequent as they used to be, but I WILL be continuing this story. I don't see more than five more chapters of this particular fic left, but I have ideas for a sequel in the works (if I can get my act together). Thank you for all the readers and reviewers and followers who have stuck with me! I definitely wouldn't have continued this story without you. As always, I hope you enjoy it!

~Ista ^_^


	24. And All I Ever Knew

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 24: And All I Ever Knew**

Ben didn't even feel the impact. One second he was on the Chelandion, looking down upon crystal blue ocean from the hatch, the next he was immersed in a churning cave devoid of sound and oxygen. Gasping above the surface, he felt the _crash_ of the rhythmic waves threatening to pull him under. Solo struggled, his hands clawing desperately at nothingness, but the panic soon gave way to dull indifference. On one hand, Ben's lungs screamed for air, but another part of him gazed into the depths beneath his barely-kicking feet and longed to drift away. This was his chance to escape forever. He could let go now; he could release his being into the warm waves and be at peace. Permanent bliss.

That sounded nice.

Ben closed his eyes just as a force grabbed him violently by his shoulder and propelled him upwards. Jerking wildly, Ben heard the roar of water, and he shielded his eyes with a palm against the offensive bright light of the beaming sun. He spluttered and coughed, his starving lungs sucking in fresh air.

"You all right?" someone shouted on his left.

Disoriented, Ben forced his frozen limbs to tread water, and he rode with the ebb and flow of the surface. There was smoke from the recent crash, acrid and burning his nose. This was reality, and Ben almost dipped under the surface again to get away from all of it—the noise, the chaos, the panic. But the hand that gripped the collar of his shirt shook him unmercifully again.

"Ben!"

Only then did the General's son realize the identity of his rescuer.

 _Finn._

Blood was running down the side of the ex-stormtrooper's head, and his eyes were frenzied with adrenaline, pain, and...

 _Worry?_

"I'm fine." Ben spat out the words along with a mouthful of brackish liquid.

Finn glowered as if he didn't believe him, and he didn't let go of Solo. Rather, the grip on his arm strengthened as the other man began guiding him through the wreckage of their previous vessel, swimming slowly yet steadily. Through the smoke that burned his eyes and made them water, Ben could just make out the remains of the Chelandion behind them, the dying embers of its massive fire, slowly sinking beneath the waves.

 _Clank, clank, clank._

What was that sound?

A sudden coughing fit made Ben double up. His throat burned, and the force of the coughs made him retch. Weak from the neural inhibitors, Ben slipped under the surface only to be unceremoniously tugged upwards again. Nauseous, he wiped his mouth with a soggy sleeve only to feel fingers brush his cheek.

"Stay with me," commanded Finn.

Although the waves obscured his vision by lapping in his face, the smoke began to clear the further Finn hauled him away from the wreck, and Solo suddenly felt a fresh breeze across his cheek. At least Finn was moving in the right direction, and the farther he swam, the less work he had to do, because they were riding with the tide.

 _Clank, clank clank._

Soon, a thin crest of golden sand was visible in the near distance. Paradise.

Ben's eyes began to close. The water was so warm, so different from most seas he'd ever encountered. With their proximity, he found himself studying the side of Finn's face, fascinated by the crusted blood—some darkened, some bright red and freshly trickling from his temple, mingling with his sweat and the salt water from the ocean.

 _Clank, clank, clank._

That noise again. Metal against metal. Ben took it upon himself to investigate by dipping his head temporarily underneath the surface. With equal parts horror and wonder, Solo realized in a moment of crushing clarity that it was the sound of Finn's blaster, floating precariously outside its holster, tapping against the metal brace along his back with every movement of his legs to propel them through the water.

"….no you don't."

Solo felt his head abruptly jerked out of the water by a strong arm. Finn glared at him, completely unaware of what Ben had been investigating. But if the ex-stormtrooper had been Force-sensitive, he certainly would have seen the repetitive images flickering through Solo's memory like a classic holovid.

The frigid forest, the blaze of clashing lightsabers. One red, one blue glowing in the dark.

The hiss of pure light through white snow. The puffs of breath visible in the air.

The smell of burning flesh as Kylo Ren ran his saber, like a lance, straight along Finn's spine.

The snow melting all around him, rivulets of icy water meeting red streams to commingle and create an outline of Finn's still form, like a bad sketch.

Ben's consciousness fractured, sunlight turning into shards that flecked the rippling surface of the sea that tossed him back and forth within the ex-stormtrooper's grasp. Solo managed one last thought: _How ironic the man I tried to kill is saving me. Again._

"Finn…" With one last ounce of strength, Ben broke free of the other man's grasp.

"Yeah?" Finn spat blood and salt water, breathing heavily from exertion. The beach loomed closer with each of his strokes.

Ben Solo whispered, "Just let me go."

And he sank beneath the surface.

* * *

Rey Kenobi felt as if she was viewing the world from outside her own body. After landing the _Falcon_ with Poe's help, she drew her long coat around her to mask the red oozing out of her right side. But it wouldn't hide the bleeding for long, or the fact that she was becoming weaker with each passing moment. She felt a chill run through her bones, but she followed through with procedures for powering down the _Falcon_. Dameron waited as patiently as he could through the process, but she could tell he was itching to get back to BB-8 and repair the droid. Sure enough, as soon as the ship's engines had quieted, the best pilot in the Resistance fled the helm and raced back to where the injured astromech was waiting for him.

Rey hissed in pain, allowing herself a moment to outwardly struggle with the pain now that she was alone. Silver dots sparkled in her vision as she stood, and the Jedi in training wobbled, clinging to the back of her pilot's chair to stabilize herself before continuing to walk unsteadily down the hallway of the _Falcon._

She found Poe hunched over the droid's frame, mimicking the exact position she had found him in back on Nar Shaddaa. An opened toolbox was beside him. She sensed that he was slowly losing hope as he fiddled with various buttons and knobs inside BB-8's shell.

Rey placed a hand on his shoulder. He jerked at her touch, slowly looking up at her.

"Finn and Ben should be joining us soon," she said. Rey tried to speak evenly, but she couldn't keep some of the agony she was experiencing out of her voice.

Dameron must have sensed something was wrong because he made a motion to stand up, placing a sturdy hand on her arm, but she gently pushed him back down.

"No, keep working on BB-8. I'm just going to take a look outside. Be back soon."

Poe made a motion to give Rey his blaster, but she waved the gesture away. Instead, she indicated the lightsaber on her belt and forced a smile that probably came out as a grimace.

"I'll be fine, Poe."

Dameron sighed and turned back around, shoulders folding inwards again in a sign of desperation.

"Hey." She snapped her fingers, and he glanced backwards as the hatch to the _Millennium Falcon_ opened, its gangplank folding out.

"Don't give up."

Poe beamed at her as Rey gingerly stepped down the walkway.

Lush jungle accosted her senses—fresh air so different from the stagnant pollution of Nar Shaddaa. Everywhere she looked was _green_ except the patch of pure azure sky directly above the clearing where the _Falcon_ was parked. Rey closed her eyes, feeling dizzy, and tried to focus. She could sense the trickle of blood soaking through her coat and running down her side, licking the edges of her boots.

Branches rustled several feet away to her left, and she skipped lightly in pursuit of the noise. Slowly, Rey pulled out her lightsaber and grasped it in one hand. Her heart beat quickened, her mouth dry, as she pulled back vision-obscuring bushes and ferns to find the source of the suspicious sound.

What she found almost made her heart stop altogether.

"Mother?"

Red stars flickered in her vision before fading to white, and Rey fell to the ground.

* * *

"NO!"

Finn could hear his heart beating in his temples, pulsing red through veins. His head throbbed, vision topsy-turvy. Seconds ago, Ben Solo had sunk beneath the thrashing waves, and Finn had frantically dove after him. The salt water stung the wound on his head and the burns on his neck. Shooting pains played sharper than Corellian harps along his spine, and for a horrifying second, the ex-stormtrooper thought that his back brace might have shattered from the impact of jumping off the Chelandion. But, no, it was still intact. And so was he. Finn's eyes opened under water, and he reached for the dark blur beneath him; Solo's arms were outstretched as if daring Finn to miss.

 _Just let me go…_

But Finn never gave up that easy. Lungs burning, the ex-stormtrooper grit his teeth, grabbed Ben Solo, and hoisted him up.

They broke the surface simultaneously with a collective gasp.

"Ben!"

Finn positioned the taller man in his grasp. Solo's head lolled from side to side, his eyes rolling as if in a lucid dream.

"Can you hear me?!"

Finn's legs pumped furiously, churning the water. A wave crashed over their heads, and Finn coughed as liquid poured into his lungs. His head hurt and his throat was dry and he was _tired_ oh so very _tired._

 _You've picked a great moment to go dead-weight on me, Solo._

"Hey! Ben! Wake up!"

Finn gently slapped the other man's face, splashing water, and he hit his shoulders, but there was no response.

 _That's okay. Just get him on dry land. Then you can figure out what to do next._

But what were they going to do? Rey and Poe were at least five miles away, and in Finn's current state, he knew he wouldn't be able to carry the taller man more than a mile. If that. They both needed rest and water.

A frustrated huff escaped Finn's lips, and he continued onward, lugging Ben alongside him. Luckily, the shore was close; Finn thought the sand couldn't have picked a better time to make an appearance, because his legs were growing weaker by the minute. The last fifty yards, Finn conserved his strength and worked with the tide to push them effortlessly, like driftwood, to dry land. All Finn had to worry about was keeping both his and Solo's heads above the surface.

At last, Finn's boots touched the muck of the ocean floor, and he leapt forward with Solo in tow, sprawling on his hands and knees. Ben was on his back, head tilted to the side. Winded, Finn bowed his head, lightheaded with the effort. And then the tide came back in, and Finn had to act fast or else Solo would be covered by the onslaught of water. The ex-stormtrooper quickly stumbled to his feet and gripped Solo's arms, dragging him along the sand several feet until they were well out of the way of the tide's constant kiss.

"We did it!" Finn said breathlessly to Ben. And even though the other man did not stir, Finn felt an enormous weight lifted off him. He smiled, despite his exhaustion and head wound. Despite the fact that he was on an unknown planet with very little idea of how to rendezvous with his friends or get help. Finn smiled.

He still had his blaster. Then Finn's eyes widened as he remembered an even more important item. He dug through a trouser pocket and felt for the small piece of paper, tucked away. His heart sunk. It was probably soaked through. But, as Finn took it from his pocket, a surge of surprised gratitude overtook him—the pocket must have been waterproof and had kept the note safe. His letter to Rey was safe…

While examining the letter, Finn became acutely aware of how hot the sun was, aggravating the raw skin on the back of his neck, and he eyed Solo's pale face dubiously. Groaning, the ex-stormtrooper once again dragged Ben through the smooth sand to the edge of the forest, settling his body under the shade of a tree with thick yellow-green foliage.

Finn sat down heavily beside Ben and checked the other man's breathing before he allowed himself to lie back. He would only sleep for a few hours, and then he would search for water and Rey and Poe. That's all Finn needed. Just a few hours…

* * *

Poe Dameron thought about a perfect string of curse words to fit his current predicament. And, unfortunately, he couldn't come up with anything nearly salty enough.

At least he had figured out what was wrong with BB-8. There was that, at least. The astromech had a fizzled-out motivator. It would take some time and reconfiguration of a couple of the _Falcon's_ spare parts to get the droid rolling around again. He had his work cut out for him. The best pilot in the Resistance didn't pride himself on being a mechanics expert, but perhaps Rey would know more and could help him out.

Speaking of Rey, where _was_ she? Not that Dameron had been counting track of the time or anything, but the young woman had been gone approximately 16 minutes and 38 seconds.

Just great. Now he was starting to sound like C-3PO.

Dameron tried to ignore the creepy-queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach by straightening one of BB-8's antennae that had frayed and curled from the Hutt's blast, but it was a quick fix, and Poe took a deep breath.

He had to go outside and look for her.

Dameron had only heard of Oskides once: it was an outer-rim planet left untouched, for the most part. So far out of the way that it wasn't the worth the utopia it was supposed to offer. But Poe didn't know anything about its ecology or its sociology. Which is why Poe had his blaster out and ready to fire by the time the _Millennium Falcon's_ gangplank touched down.

Dameron calmly took in the beautiful sights of this new locale while keeping his guard up. The weather was sunny and the air was thick with humidity, but a gentle wind tousled his hair. At once, he was reminded of Yavin 4, and the longing to be with his father and around familiar surroundings almost took his breath away.

 _Focus. You need to find Rey._

He opened his mouth and promptly shut it, rolling his eyes. It was definitely times like these that Poe missed being able to do simple things—like _shout_ someone's name, for example.

Fortunately, Dameron didn't have to scour the entire countryside to find Rey. It was only a matter of stepping off the plank and turning to his left when he found her.

She was lying on her side at the edge of the meadow, where the clearing met the jungle, and she wasn't alone.

A just-smaller-than-humanoid creature was bent over her. Poe couldn't tell what it was doing, but it had brown-grey fur and three ivory-colored claws on each of its four limbs. One of these claws seemed to be pointed at Rey's head.

That was all Dameron needed to see before he raced towards Rey's unmoving figure. In lieu of shouting, he waved his arms (and blaster) in what he hoped was the universal sign for: "What the kriff do you think you're _doing_?!"

The creature raised its round head slowly, and the pilot found himself gazing into serene brown eyes, and a dark brown snout and mouth that matched. The fact that he couldn't read any of its emotions (save a vacant sort of smile) from the individual confused Poe as to whether this was an animal or sentient being.

He supposed it didn't matter in this case. Rey was in trouble. He continued a series of violent gesticulations until the furry creature crawled (albeit slowly) out of his fallen comrade's vicinity and behind a nearby bush. There, it continued to watch them, as if shy, behind a fern.

Dameron immediately knelt down beside Rey and felt the blood drain from his face as he saw the red seeping through the long coat she wore. He carefully peeled away the layer of clothing to reveal the ugly wound that cut through the right side of her abdomen. Blaster fire. Well, at least that ruled out their new furry friend.

 _Rey, why didn't you tell me?_

She must have been wounded in their skirmish back on Nar Shaddaa.

Dameron licked his lips, wondering if he should chance moving her. But then his eyes locked with the inquisitive brown ones of the creature with the long claws, hiding behind the shrubbery, and that answered his question. Dameron holstered his blaster, pocketed her discarded lightsaber, then picked Rey up as delicately as possible, cradling her head in his left shoulder. As they rose, Dameron's eyes caught the shadow of something else beyond the initial edge of the forest, something large, and ventured a bit further. The creature in front of him made a sluggish move to get out of his way and hid behind a nearby tree, leaving his line of sight completely clear to take in the shocking site of what the dense jungle foliage had been hiding…

It was a shuttle. Blue and white. Of the Rebel Alliance variety. Perhaps twenty or thirty years old. Rusted and decaying, there were vines growing all over it, but it was still recognizable as Alliance. Was this what Rey had been viewing when she collapsed?

Dameron only realized his mouth was hanging open when Rey emitted a soft moan in his arms. With that, Dameron secured his grip on her and sped back to the _Falcon._

* * *

 _Please be okay pleasebeokaypleasebeokayokayokay?_

Past the uncanny shell of BB-8, like some kind of horrible statue, Dameron raced with Rey bundled in his arms. The hatch to the _Falcon_ closed with a _thunk!_ behind him, and Poe felt a little safer.

He pulled a cot out from the wall and placed Rey upon its stiffly starched white sheets. Crimson liquid continued to flow from her side, and he applied bandages from a medical bag along the wound. Her skin was pale, breathing shallow, beads of sweat lingering along her forehead. In that moment, Poe Dameron had never felt so alone. He pressed two fingers into her neck, monitoring her heart rate as he continued applying pressure to the wound, but he had no idea if his efforts were making much of a difference.

Then her eyes fluttered open, closed, open, closed.

He patted her hand, squeezing it with encouragement.

 _That's it, Rey. That's it. Can you read my thoughts?_

When her glassy eyes connected with his, Dameron took that for a "yes."

 _Remember what you told me before you left?_

But Rey's eyes closed, her head rolling to the side, her feeble grip on his hand going suddenly limp. Dameron's heart hammered in his chest, and he felt himself panicking. He continued patting her arm, her face, applying pressure. He had to keep her awake, keep her going. There was still hope. She had probably found the vessel just like he had, and if his suspicions were correct, it was a shuttle she recognized from her past.

 _Don't you want to see what's inside the shuttle? This is what we've been traveling across the galaxy to find, Rey!_

Poe Dameron was suddenly aware of just how alone he was within the silence of the _Falcon,_ which made the words that came pouring out of his mouth so ear-shattering:

"Don't give up, Rey!"

Poe gasped.

Rey's eyes flitted open. They contained a question.

Dameron's throat burned, and the sounds were infinitely strange coming out of his own mouth, but he continued, driven by the need for his friend's survival:

"Rey, it's going to be all right. You just have to stay awake. Okay? Just….Keep your eyes open."

The words were gruff and hoarse, but they created the desired effect. Rey blinked, mouth forming a perfect "O."

"Poe…" she said with a wince. "Did you… Did you just speak?"

Dameron bit his lip and cleared his throat. He hesitated, then: "Guess I did."

TBC

 **A/N:** Yes, the creatures Poe encounters on Oskides are based off sloths. Why? Because sloths are awesome. And cute and kinda terrifying. And for all these reasons, they are my official not-Ewok characters for the _Return of the Jedi_ -esque section of this fic. You're welcome.

POE SPEAKS. Wooooot! I'm ecstatic.

~Ista ^_^


	25. The Perfect Candidate

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 25: The Perfect Candidate**

Poe thought he might be dreaming. It might have explained the skip in his step when he fetched food for himself and Rey from the _Falcon's_ supply area that evening. Dry protein bars never tasted so transcendent! It might have explained the way Rey smiled through the pain of the dermal generator sparking across her side, reflecting his own exuberance as he talked her through it.

"Easy, easy. That's it. Almost done. You're doin' great. Just a little bit more. Rey, I can't believe I'm talking again. Rey—I think that's the first time I've said your name out loud. I really like saying it. Rey… Rey… REY!"

Her eyes flitted open, and she smiled weakly again.

"I'm…" Dameron's voice cracked, and the sensation was so damn _beautiful_. "I'm sorry. I must be driving you nuts. It's just… I haven't—"

"I understand," she whispered, her eyes hazy but shining with happiness.

No, this wasn't a dream.

Poe smiled back at her, his vision misting over. He shut the dermal generator off and gingerly wrapped white swathes around Rey's abdomen. He worked in silence, and it felt so _strange_ to have the urge to fill that silence. He hadn't felt that desire in ages. Months. He had become accustomed to the void.

 _Why did I get my voice back now, of all times?_

Dameron closed his eyes, willing his voice not to shake, but it did. The words seemed like a foreign language when he concentrated on forming the sounds, like they were flowing out of someone else's mouth. His tongue ran across the back of his teeth.

"I… I need to thank you for everything you've done for me. I don't even know what to say, but if it wasn't for you and Finn, I don't know what I would have done… Rey?"

But the Jedi-in-training had fallen asleep. Her mouth remained slightly open, long eyelashes folded delicately against her too-pale skin.

Dameron's eyes swooped skyward, and he blew out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"I'll tell you in the morning…"

His words filled the _Millennium Falcon_ and echoed off its infamous walls. Dameron dutifully checked Rey's pulse, and when he was satisfied that she wasn't in any danger, he ambled down the hall to inspect their communications system.

Because Finn and Ben hadn't checked in yet.

Dameron hummed tunelessly and flipped several switches, listening to the comm's static. White noise.

He held the headphone up to one ear, pushing buttons. Although he wasn't entirely familiar with all of the _Falcon's_ quirks, he had worked beside Rey long enough to pick up the basics.

"C'mon," he said to himself. "C'mon, c'mon…"

Frustrated, Poe placed the headset on and began sending out signals to any vessels within a ten-mile radius.

"This is Dameron. Finn, do you read me? Ben? This is Poe with the _Falcon_. Do you copy? Finn, answer me…. Respond, please. Do you hear me? Have you received our coordinates? Rey's hurt….Finn, answer me…. Ben… Where _are_ you guys?"

Poe continued for another few hours, trying different frequencies. At some point, the twin moons of Oskides became visible from behind a cluster of clouds, and Poe was mesmerized. For a moment, a tear drop-shaped shadow flitted across them in the darkness then was gone. The Resistance pilot mistook the anomaly for exhaustion because he never saw it again. Therefore, his newly-found voice shredded and his nerves shot, Dameron succumbed to a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Poe woke the next morning in the co-pilot's chair as yellow light filtered through the view screen of the _Falcon._ The headset twisted around his dark hair, one arm tangled in its cord. He had temporarily forgotten the events of the previous day until he yawned, and the piercing groan that escaped his throat was so loud that he almost tipped backwards in his chair.

Suffice to say, it woke him up.

 _Oh. Right. I can talk again._

Poe felt laughter rise up through his ribcage, and once he started, he couldn't stop. The _sound_ was so delicious to hear. Like a dear friend that never thought he'd see again. And it seemed that, along with his voice, his regular restless energy had returned too. Dameron had barely left his chair and stretched when he assumed a defensive training position, followed by a few push-ups. Then he raced to the supply cabinet and pulled out some more rations and a canteen of water, taking a large swig and heading for Rey.

She was still asleep when he reached the cot where he had left her the previous night, curled up on the opposite side from her wound, her back to him.

"Hey," he said softly, the sound of his own voice still astounding him. "Time to get up."

Poe hesitated when Rey didn't move, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in her presence. She appeared so fragile in that moment, so innocent. Instantly, he remembered when Rey had collapsed after the attack on D'Qar, when he had caught and held her. Everything inside him had wanted to scream at that moment, to see someone he regarded as _strong_ crumple before him.

But what really constituted someone as _strong?_ BB-8 had helped him re-learn the steps it took to eat on a regular basis so that he would have enough strength to train, to run, to fight. But physical strength was only one small part of being healthy. Poe thought of the people he looked up to the most—Rey and Finn, Luke Skywalker and General Organa, and BB-8, of course—and he realized that what he admired about them had more to do with their personal convictions and their loyalties to their friends.

Dameron placed a hand on Rey's shoulder and took a deep breath. He had just realized _why_ it grieved him so deeply to see her in pain. It was because she would have felt the same if their roles had been reversed.

"Rey…"

She didn't stir. Not even so much as a twitch.

"I've got some breakfast for us…"

Nothing.

Poe shook her shoulder. Still nothing.

"No…"

Dameron's vision went white at the edges as he dropped the protein bars and placed two fingers along her neck. Simultaneously, he tugged a piece of bandage away from her abdomen only to discover red and enflamed flesh around the edges of where her wound used to be, oozing a yellow pus and a noxious odor.

 _Infection. How is that possible?_

"Don't do this to me, Rey."

Poe forced himself to concentrate on finding a pulse rather than panic. At last—the tips of his fingers felt a beat. Her heartbeat was there, but it was thready. The pilot placed the back of his hand on her forehead and recoiled from its heat. Her clothing and cot were already drenched with sweat.

 _Fever._

"Rey, wake up!"

At the sound of his voice, she moaned softly and turned over, but Rey's eyes didn't open. Instead, he saw the opposite side of her neck and immediately shouted out the expletive he'd been saving up for so long.

The left side of her neck was covered with purple, lace-like veins.

 _Poison?_

Dameron went into action double-time. He fetched extra bandages and dunked them in water, placing them on her forehead and underneath her armpits. Then he replaced her dirty bandages. He dug through both medical supply containers on board the _Millennium Falcon_ and found nothing to ward off infection. Or to treat poisons, for that matter. Poe wasn't a doctor, but he had a feeling one of the Hutt's weapons had been tainted with something.

 _The bastards!_

Once Rey's bandages were replaced, Poe dashed back to the controls and shoved the headphones over his ears without thinking.

"Finn? Ben? Do you read me? Rey needs medical attention _immediately_. Is anybody out there?" The pilot's voice began to creep into a shout, desperate.

His fingers danced across the panel, turning on a scanner to check for ships. Seconds later, the unthinkable information relayed back to Dameron. There were _zero_ vessels in the immediate area or within the Oskides orbit. Not even a stray TIE fighter. And certainly not a hulking, silver-plated Chelandion.

Poe gulped back pure fear. He was starting to feel very much alone. Again. The options breezed, faster than pod racers, through his thoughts. He went back and forth, debating the possibilities, calculating the risks, like any good pilot would do (or card player, for that matter). If he stayed put in the _Falcon_ , there was a chance that Rey wouldn't make it. How many signals sent into the vast airwaves around Oskides would it take for someone to answer? And what would happen if Finn and Ben _never_ answered?

Then that would mean…

Dameron closed his eyes, cold sweat trickling down his back. No, it wasn't possible. Poe _refused_ to believe that Finn was gone. That even Ben was gone. Maybe their communications were off-line. Maybe their radar was malfunctioning too, and they were having a difficult time locating the _Falcon._

And even if they _had_ been shot down, there was still a chance that the two were alive. It would just take them a little more time to reach Rey's coordinates. Rey had estimated their landing to be five miles inland—it was more like ten.

Dameron tried not to think that walking ten miles wouldn't take a whole night.

Instead, he abandoned the headset and returned to Rey's cot. She still wasn't conscious, but she wasn't completely asleep either. Rather, the Jedi tossed and turned.

"Rey…"

Dameron knelt beside her, placing another damp cloth on her forehead. She writhed beneath his touch, eyes flashing open only to dull and close. She grit her teeth, muttering incoherently.

Then: "Finn…"

Poe pushed aside his own emotions and comforted her, running the back of his hand along her temple and down her cheek until Rey eventually quieted. Poe stood back, the breath catching in his chest.

She wasn't getting any better. In fact, her silence merely betrayed how sick she really was. Rey was going to _die._

Unless…

Dameron raced back to the pilot's chair and typed in a message to relay should Finn and Ben rendezvous with the _Millennium Falcon_ and find it empty.

The best pilot in the Resistance took a cursory glance over the controls before sliding on his jacket— _Finn's_ jacket—and ran back to Rey, standing over her motionless body.

"All right, kiddo," said Poe although she couldn't hear him, hands on his hips. "We're making like a Kybuck and getting the hell out of here."

Gingerly, he slid his arms underneath her trembling frame. And, _kriff_ , he could feel the heat radiating from her skin through thin layers of clothing. Blaster in one holster, and Rey's lightsaber in another clip on his utility belt, Poe Dameron punched the evac door open and carefully carried Rey down the gangplank.

Outside, the clearing bloomed before him like a fragrant garden. Oskides made Poe long for his home moon again, but at the same time, it juxtaposed Rey's death-like form, her pale face, the thin purple veins criss-crossing from her neck and now spreading across her cheeks. Dameron walked slowly, bearing Rey in his arms like an offering to the gods of fate and the Force and whatever that furry creature had been he run into earlier by the blue and white spacecraft.

As much as Poe hated to admit it, that furry creature was their only hope at this moment.

By the time he reached the edge of the clearing, Dameron was getting nervous. He wondered if he should chance setting Rey down and getting his blaster out. But something in his gut told him that he needed to keep cool in this situation. The creature had been easily frightened off before. He was assuming one glance of the blaster might destroy any possibility of getting the help Rey desperately needed.

"HEY! IS THERE ANYONE OUT THERE?!" It felt good to use his lungs again, shouting into the jungle's abyss. There was no response. Then… Out of the corner of his eye, Dameron saw a shimmer of grey and the dark eyes of the creature he encountered the day before.

Poe took a step back when he saw the flash of silver and dark brown through the brush. Two glowing eyes peered at him from around a small tree. Not shy, necessarily, but cautious.

 _It feels the same way I do,_ he thought.

Rey stirred in his arms, moaning. The heat of her skin pressed against Dameron's skin focused his purpose for abandoning the _Falcon_ in the first place.

The strange, slow-moving creature might be her only chance.

"Please…" Poe spoke softly, taking a tentative step in the being's direction. "My friend is hurt. Can you… Can you help her?"

Dameron's voice broke, and the small animal seemed to study him, then turned its head, pointing its nose up to sniff the air.

Poe thought: _We're doomed._

This little creature wasn't self-aware. And now Dameron had to go back to Solo's old vessel with Rey and try to heal her out of thin air with no medical supplies and no one to turn to.

Dameron sank to his knees and tenderly set Rey on the cool grass before him. In the shade of the jungle at the edge of the clearing, Poe checked the Jedi's breathing, temporarily forgetting the fuzzy thing still peeping through the copse at them.

"Rey, can you hear me? Rey, wake up… Rey…"

"Re-ehhhh-yeee…"

Poe nearly fell over backwards at the sudden sound—a soft, breathy purr, not unpleasant, with an alto tone. He instantly reached for his blaster, causing the medium-sized creature to shrink back, emitting a high-pitched sound, not unlike BB-8's chirps when it was excited.

 _Kriff._

Fuzzy could talk.

* * *

Snoke sat on Ben's chest.

Poison streamed out of the Supreme Leader's maw in green rivulets and flowed into Kylo Ren's open mouth and nose, choking him as he lay on his back. The young man struggled against the torture, but when he raised his hands, they revealed themselves to be mere stumps, singed and steaming, victims of a crossguard.

As fast as Snoke appeared, he was gone. In his place stood Rey, Finn, and Poe. They stared down at him with mixed expressions on their faces. Rey was calling something to him, her face red with anguish. Finn shook his head, frowning, as if to say: _I'm not surprised this happened to him._ And then there was Poe… Dameron's countenance was stoic and guarded, arms folded. He stood apart from the other two, as if he couldn't bear to have company at the moment. Then he raised one sleeve to his eyes and walked away.

Solo wanted to cry out, "Wait! Come back!" He wanted to ask Rey what was wrong and reassure everyone that he would be all right. The lightsaber wounds were horrifying, but his limbs could be replaced with artificial ones, like the ones his grandfather had. Like Luke Skywalker's metallic hand. It wasn't as bad as they were making it out to be, right?

And then Solo lifted his chin, and he understood the others' reactions. His body was gone. In its place was a skeleton, picked clean from the surf and other scavengers. The white bones of his rib cage gleamed in the sunlight, partially buried under the sand.

Ben woke gasping. Huge gulps of air rushed into his lungs, his eyes wide, hands splayed behind him, digging into the sand to stabilize his body. Eventually, his breath evened, and he raised a sandy hand to shade his eyes from the blinding sunshine as it reflected off the golden beach surrounding him.

Fragments of memories washed through his mind. Solo remembered the Chelandion. It was going to self-destruct. Then he jumped into the ocean. After that, Ben remembered the roar of the waves in his ears and the tug of the neural inhibitors in his system, calling for him to _sleep sleep sleep._ But someone had pulled him above the surface…

 _Finn._

Solo jerked back to the present and his line of sight immediately took in the ex-stormtrooper lying, motionless, beside him.

"Finn!" His voice was hoarse and raspy. Ben coughed a few times, trying to clear his throat, but his mouth was inconveniently free of spit.

Sand covered the other man. Fine particles enveloped his clothes and crusted over the left side of his face from a bloody gash. Ben remembered seeing the wound when they were drifting in the sea, and while it appeared to have stopped bleeding, it still looked irritated.

"Wonderful," said Solo aloud, huffing a breath. Hastily, he took Finn's left arm and swiveled it back and forth. "Wake up."

Finn remained still.

Even with all that Ben had been through in the past few months, old habits died hard. And Solo was used to having others follow his orders. Thus, he found himself becoming increasingly irritated when Finn didn't open his eyes upon command.

"Finn!" he said sharply. "Wake. Up."

He shook the man's shoulder this time, careful to avoid brushing the ex-stormtrooper's head.

Nothing.

Within a few seconds, the annoyance Ben felt changed to an emotion that was somewhat new for him. It was difficult to define at first—a kind of anxiety that began as a tightness in his sternum and made his head feel dizzy. What was it? Solo searched his past for instances of feeling similarly, and he eventually came up with a name for this emotion: Worry. He was worried for himself, as well as the man who had saved his life.

 _Huh. That's new._

He stood slowly on wobbly legs, using the tree trunk behind him for stability. Then Solo surveyed the area. Both north and south, there was a stretch of golden sand for as far as his eyes could see. Less than one hundred feet to the west was jungle.

Ben swallowed, his head beginning to throb. Now that he was more alert, it was abundantly clear that he was dehydrated and would require water soon if he was to survive the next few days.

And then there was another problem. What was he going to do with Finn? Solo pursed his lips and knelt beside the ex-stormtrooper, checking the other man's vitals. He instinctively placed a palm on Finn's forehead, feeling the heat of his skin, listening to his heartbeat and trying to pick apart his dreams…

Another word came to Solo's lips: "Concussion."

Finn needed medical attention soon. Rey and Poe were somewhere in the jungle to the west. But where? He did not have the coordinates memorized—could only relay the general direction. The first option would be to transport Finn, somehow, back to Rey and Poe. Hopefully the _Falcon_ would have the necessary medical equipment to help him.

Then there was a second option…

"You're gonna leave him behind?"

Ben jumped with surprise at the voice behind him, but he shouldn't have been surprised. The neural inhibitor was long gone from his system, and he was more susceptible to these visions when under stress. It happened so often in his glass cage that Ben had almost forgotten the daily visitations.

The older man stood behind him, leaning against the tree that provided shade, a cocky smile plastered across his face—a smile Ben wished so many times he could have carved out with a lightsaber and hung up as a trophy. He had brown hair only slightly speckled with grey—a dark vest over a cream colored shirt. He wore black boots that Ben had often played with and tried on—although they were several sizes too big—when he was young.

"Hello, father."

TBC

 **A/N:** As someone who experiences night terrors, those dreams inspired me to play with Snoke's haunting of Ben. Call it therapy for me, as disturbing as it is. Also, the end of Ben's dream where his friends are standing over him and he finds himself lying on the beach only to realize his body is a skeleton… Yeah, that's from a dream I've had. I have the most random dreams—gah!

Hope you all enjoyed. Please let me know how I'm doin'.

 **Honey** and **Pricklefritz,** I'm giving you bonus points and virtual chocolate cupcakes with vanilla icing and rainbow sprinkles for sticking with me. Thanks for those awesome reviews!

~Ista ^_^


	26. Never Carved in Stone

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 26: Never Carved in Stone**

Ben pinched the side of his arm until it stung. He even closed his eyes, stuck his fingers in his ears, and hummed… only to open his eyes a moment later to find Han Solo's face inches away, wearing a perplexed expression.

"What are you doing?"

 _Well, it was worth a shot._

Instead, Solo slipped past the hallucination of his father and knelt beside Finn's immobile form once more, placing a hand on his sternum, feeling the rhythm of his heart. It was strong. At least it was strong. But Finn still wouldn't wake.

"You can't just abandon him," said his father's voice above him. "Not after all he's done for you."

Ben was trying to to figure out whether the vision of his father—partially see-through and wavy in the dappled sunlight—was a figment of his imagination, brought on by heat exhaustion, or whether it was real.

Not that it mattered. Either way, Ben Solo had no intention of giving into the mirage of his dead father.

But Han Solo _had_ brought up an interesting point. _Should_ he abandon Finn? Could he risk leaving the man on his own? He had no idea how long it would take for him to find Poe and Rey. Ideally, they would have begun looking for him too, but Ben remembered speaking with Rey before they left Nar Shaddaa—he remembered that she had been wounded. And he had sensed something else too—like walking through a sheet of ice water. Her wound had been deceptive.

 _Poison._

No, Rey and Poe would not be searching for them.

Han Solo placed a hand on his shoulder, and Ben wormed free of his touch, shivering as if he had been burned.

"Are you gonna acknowledge me for once?" his father demanded, raising his voice.

 _How cute. The hallucination is getting cranky._

It was too perfect, really.

Ben said, "I am actively ignoring you."

Then he moved out of the comfort of the shade to gauge the day's heat. It was warm, but not unbearable. Judging by the sun's position in the sky, it had to be around noon, maybe a bit later, which meant about three more hours of increasing temperatures before it cooled down. Not the best time to start a journey lugging someone else's body through a tropical rainforest.

"You're doing a terrible job."

Ben knew that his father was getting to him. Like he always used to. It was bound to happen. They just never got along. His mother's unfailing devotion to her son at least presented no obstacles to Ben while growing up. And Uncle Luke might have been "holier than thou," but at least his company was tolerable. Skywalker had never tried to rule Ben's life the way his father had.

"Well, there's a way I won't have to…" Ben rifled through the pockets of his black jacket and found the small container of neural inhibitors, still miraculously intact through the peril of his latest near-death experience.

He took one of the small tablets from the container and examined it in his palm. His father's image flitted next to him, looking curiously at his son. Ben was about to bring the tablet to his mouth when—

"How are you supposed to carry Finn all the way through that jungle if you take one of those?"

Ben glared at Han because his father had correctly guessed his decision. He was going to save Finn. Even if his loyalties still lay with the First Order, he wouldn't leave this man to die.

Despite his vow to ignore the phantasm at his side, Ben couldn't avoid it any longer.

"I'll manage."

"You'll fall asleep," Han shot back.

A sound that was a mix between a growl and a sigh escaped Ben's lips, and he dropped the tablet back in its container, pocketing it. His boots sunk into the dry sand, and he kicked at it hopelessly.

"Will you stop being my conscience for once? YOU ARE NOT REAL."

Han kept his distance, his voice softer. "I'm as real as I ever was."

Ben could feel the anger that had often eclipsed his reason begin to boil up, threatening to simmer over. Of course, his abilities would never work on a ghost. There was absolutely no way he could make the vision disappear.

"At least we're spending more time now than we ever did when you were alive," Ben mumbled.

He wasn't sure if Han heard his comment, but he supposed that if his father's image was a figment of his imagination, it would get the hint.

Rather than engage any further with the ghost, Ben returned to Finn's stationary figure. He had some significant doubts about whether this mission was going to work.

"How am I supposed to carry him?" he said to himself. "I'm not strong enough."

"You underestimate your capabilities," his father's voice floated along the warm breeze.

"And how are we supposed to find Rey and Poe?" He huffed a frustrated sigh between his lips, trying to steady his emotions. "This is _impossible_!"

"Use the Force," said Han.

Ben rolled his eyes. "That's not how the Force works."

"You can sense their presence, right? Like radar. I always knew Ben Kenobi's feel-your-way mumbo-jumbo would come in handy one of these days."

Ben sighed audibly again and gently positioned Finn in order to get the best grip on him. He carefully placed one arm underneath the ex-stormtrooper's legs, and the other behind his back, feeling the solid metal of Finn's back brace. Ben cleared his throat, unsure that his legs would even be able to support both of them. But then he stood slowly. Ben blinked. He did it.

Han Solo chuckled beside him. "See? What'd I tell you?

Ben ignored him and took a few tentative steps towards the trees. With each stride, he gained confidence and could feel the strength that he had kept suppressed for so long begin to stir inside him. Like a spare muscle that had not been stretched in ages, his connection to the Force guided him, taking some of the extra burden of Finn's weight so that the man was lighter in his arms.

Behind him, Ben heard the uncanny _crunch crunch crunch_ of boots on twigs and underbrush. When he glanced over his shoulder, the ex-Knight of Ren was less than enthused to find his dearly departed dad.

"I think I'll be all right without your help from now on."

"I know," said Han Solo cheerfully. "But I'd like to keep an eye on you."

Ben grit his teeth.

* * *

Poe Dameron set his blaster on the grass slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. He didn't want to frighten away the creature hiding in the shade of the forest's greenery.

 _Do I talk first or you talk first? I talk first….?_

"All right, buddy." Poe spread his hands out in a surrendering gesture. He kept his voice calm and even. "I don't mean any harm. I'm just worried about my friend. She needs help."

Its dark brown eyes blinked slowly, and the creature gradually stepped from the shade of the trees and into the sunlight. The sight was unusual to Poe because it took the creature about three times as long to move as a typical humanoid. Although it walked on hind legs, its entire body covered with a shaggy grey fur. Some patches of green and brown covered its back. Poe cocked his head when he recognized what the patches were— _mold!_ The thing moved so slowly that _mold_ grew on its back.

Dameron wrinkled his nose. Or maybe they just didn't believe in taking showers.

A few feet away, the smaller being stopped and stared at Poe point-blank. Then its large brown eyes moved to Rey as she moved slightly, groaning.

"Rehhhh—aaayyyyy—yeeee?" Another breathy gasp.

It remembered her name from before. Poe took this as a positive sign.

"Yes—Rey. Her name's Rey. And she needs your help! Can you help my friend?"

And then the creature shuffled forward and clamped its feet into the ground, raising its paws up. Poe stiffened at the sight of its giant white claws (three on each paw), instinctively reaching for his blaster beside him, but the being's eyes widened with fear, dark brown streaks in its fur like tear tracks down its cheeks, and the pilot settled.

"Sorry," the pilot breathed out. "It's just… those claws are a little intimidating. They'd give a Wookie a run for his money." Poe chuckled a little at the image of the furry creature in front of him chasing Chewbacca. But Fuzzy just looked at him, bemused, and Poe's laughter died away.

Instead, the creature plopped itself on the grass and delicately placed one paw over Rey's sternum. Poe wondered if it could feel the heat radiating off her body. It set the other claw on her forehead, and then it closed its eyes, as if listening.

A string of words followed its examination, each one with vowels drawn out. "Veeeeeeee-aaaaayyyy-behhhhhhhhllll. Soooooooooooooooo….. ahhhhhhhhhhhl."

Poe shrugged his shoulders upwards, expressing bewilderment. How he wished he had a universal translator handy. Or C-3PO.

 _Never thought I'd say that._

Then the grey creature crossed its claws before it and pressed them against its chest. "Vaaaaaaaaaaaahx."

"Vox?" Dameron repeated. "Is that your name?"

The creature's head bobbed leisurely up and down, emphasizing the word again, "Vaaaaaaaaahx."

Poe thought about this. "Can I just say 'Vox?'"

And although the creature's mouth seemed to rest in a perpetual smile, its lips quirked up slightly, as if pleased.

The pilot repeated the gesture, crossing his hands against his chest too. "Poe."

"Pohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhw?"

Dameron flashed a smile. "Yeah, close enough."

Then, in a movement that would have taken the pilot half a second, but took the furry creature much longer, it extended a paw towards him and grabbed one of his hands, squeezing it. Poe dipped his head to acknowledge their newly acquired friendship. Afterwards, Vox released Dameron's hand and indicated a direction south, through the jungle.

"Nyyyyyyyyy wyyyyyyyy luhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

"Are there others like you close by?" Poe took the gesture as an indication of a possible camp nearby.

Vox's eyes widened when he turned back to Dameron. "Veeeeeeee Vohhhhhhhhhhlths."

"Volths?" Poe questioned. "Is that you? I mean, is that your species?"

Vox blinked, as if it was sleepy. "Vohhhhhhhhhhlths. Skaaaaaaaaaaazzzzz."

And then the silver creature rose on its hind legs and turned back to the forest, starting to amble through it.

"Hey!" Poe shouted, scrambling to his feet as well. "Hey! Wait up!"

He gently lifted Rey again, trying to ignore how quiet and still she was despite the movement. Waves of heat seeped off her body, causing him to sweat.

"It's going to be all right," the pilot told her, even if he wasn't sure about that. And then he crossed the clearing's threshold with Rey, plunging into the unique sights, sounds, and smells of the jungle. It was overwhelming and comforting at once, like being at home again. Dameron was used to the dizzying array of vines, the criss-cross of sunlight filtering through the canopy above, the unidentifiable _squeaks_ and _rustles_ of living beings all sharing the same space.

For a moment of panic, Poe thought that Vox had gone off without them, but he shouldn't have been so worried. It would have been an understatement to call the _Volths_ , if that really was their name, _slow._ It would have been more accurate to call their very existence _time-consuming._ In a matter of seconds, Poe had caught up and was threatening to surpass the mold-backed creature.

Dameron wouldn't have called himself an _impatient_ man, but once he had a clear goal in mind, it was typical of him to follow through with a plan as quickly as possible. No time spent dawdling. Besides, a minute saved was a minute that could be spent on another worthy pursuit. And with his newly-found voice and spirit, Vox's sluggish pace soon became maddening to the Resistance pilot.

"Vox," Poe said, nearly stepping on the heels of the Volth in his hurry. "I know you can't understand _anything_ I'm saying, but is there some _other_ way to get to your people? I mean… unless they're close by…. You're making Fenner's Rocks seem speedy."

But just as Poe spoke, Vox bent over in the middle of its trail, causing Poe to adjust his footing on the spot in order to keep himself upright and not drop Rey. He sucked in a quick breath, checking on Rey as she stirred, sweat running down her forehead. He could feel sweat begin to trickle down his temples as well. He had forgotten how damn _humid_ the jungle could be.

"Ok. What was _that_?"

Vox ignored him, stooped over and rummaging through a burlap sack that had been buried under large leaves. While moving aside one of these brown leaves, Vox put it up to his nose, sniffed it, and then proceeded to take a large bite out of it.

"Listen, pal…." Poe could feel his ire go up. "I understand the satisfaction of finding a well-placed _snack_ , but my friend is really _really_ sick."

Vox looked up at him in its lackadaisical manner, continuing to munch thoughtfully.

The pilot tried a new tactic. "Remember Reehhhh—eehhhh—yeeeeee? And if we don't…"

Dameron's words dissolved away when his eyes fell upon what the Volth pulled out of its sack.

It wasn't a bunch of leaves. That was for sure.

Vox held up what looked like two small shoes. Upon closer inspection, Poe realized they they were machines of some kind. But for what purpose? Vox continued, the permanent smile on its face widening a bit as it slid the mechanical devices on its feet and pushed a button on the side of them. At once, the shoes lit up with spiraling patterns of green and gold. The shoes were made perfectly for the Volth; they even had three small holes so Vox could put stick its claws through and still wear them.

Dameron tilted his head in confusion. "What do those—"

There was an abrupt _puff_ , like air being compressed, and Vox suddenly lifted upwards. There it hovered, suddenly eye-level with Poe, and if the pilot didn't know the Volth any better, he would have assumed the look Vox gave him was completely _smug_.

"O….kay."

With a mechanical whir not unlike BB-8's motor when it was excited, Vox shot through the air, the green lights on its shoe machines flashing wildly. Within a few seconds, the Volth was several yards ahead of Dameron. Floating mid-air, Vox languidly turned its head back at Poe. The grin was unmistakable on its face this time.

Poe consciously closed his gaping mouth and called, "You wouldn't happen to have another pair of those shoes in that bag of yours, would ya?"

Their journey continued for the rest of the day. Poe tried to keep pace with Vox at a steady trot, but he had to be careful to protect Rey and not jostle her unnecessarily. Although she was light and easy to carry, as the hours passed by, Dameron found his muscles straining. He had barely gotten back to his training routines before the attack on D'Qar, and he was embarrassingly out of shape.

As the morning shifted to the afternoon, the pilot became increasingly fatigued. His stomach growled, and his mouth felt as dry as it had back on Jakku after being separated from Finn. The last time he had a decent meal besides spare protein bars was back at the Resistance base, days ago.

But whenever he stopped for a break, leaning against a tree to wipe sweat out of his eyes, or just to catch his breath, his new friend would swoop back to check on him, and Poe would try to re-double his efforts. As the light of day began to fade, Dameron persisted only to keep Rey alive. As much as she had helped him survive, now he would help her. She just _had_ to make it.

"We've made it this far," he whispered to her unconscious form. "You can't leave us now, kiddo."

And just as Kes Dameron's son thought he wouldn't be able to take one more step, they arrived at Vox's home.

The first things he saw were the lights. Like candles on birthday cakes, they dotted the immediate space of the jungle and into the unknowing distance. Multicolored and glowing, they complimented the color and design of Vox's glowing shoes—neon yet somehow at complimentary to this vast jungle on Oskides.

The second thing Poe noticed was the _scope_ of the space. This wasn't a camp—it was a _village._ Of _course_ it was a village. Where else would Vox take him? Poe thought. Massive structures rose like shadows in the twilight—and upon closer scrutiny, Dameron realized that they were huge canvas cloths and textiles strung over branches to create homes. These gargantuan sheet forts existed mostly on the forest floor, although some structures made of wood and moss were either carved into trees or built into the canopy. Each home bore an array of varying lights as exterior decoration; some twinkled, some glowed consistently. It was a _beautiful_ , Poe realized. A feast for the eyes.

"This is…" Poe choked on the words—his throat dry, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. "This is your home?"

Vox turned to him, its paws folded. Then they opened, spreading out to frame the vision before them. In the dimming light, Dameron realized that there were hundreds of Volths—some moving at a snail's pace on the forest floor—many more zooming back and forth with their shoe machines at different levels of the trees, faster than his tired eyes could catch.

"It's… Vox, I dunno what to say…"

And even if the Volth didn't understand him, its content smile was enough to express Vox's pride of its home.

Before Poe had the chance to take an uncertain step farther, Rey was suddenly taken from him. He resisted at first, but there were several Volths surrounding him then, all of them pressing in with soft paws on his arms, claws clacking soothingly, settling him, letting him know without words that everything would be all right. Poe had lived without speech long enough to understand their meaning. They were going to take care of her. He watched as Rey was born into a nearby dwelling, and then Vox and another smaller Volth lead him away—tugging on his hands like eager toddlers—to a large fire in the center of their village.

Lights blurred in his vision, and he was so tired and so worried about Rey.

"Is she going to be all right?" Poe mumbled, but he wasn't sure if anyone heard him because he was suddenly being guided to sit by the fire. Dameron shivered within his leather jacket. He hadn't realized how cold it had become in the growing darkness. But before Dameron could even speak, a blanket of some unknown soft material was placed around his shoulders, and a bowl was placed in his lap.

Dameron dug in with his fingers, scooping the mush out and gratefully spooning it into his mouth. It was some kind of stew made of insects, and although their crunch was strange, the mixture's gravy was richly satisfying. As soon as Poe had finished the bowl, another plate of fresh fruits and green leaves that tasted like salad was placed in front of him, and he practically inhaled it. Next was water in a bowl that he sipped gratefully, mindful not to consume too much lest it come back up.

No longer ravenous, the Resistance pilot suddenly realized there were dozens of pairs of eyes watching him, glowing softly in the dark, reflecting the fire's light. He cleared his throat loudly.

"Thanks for the grub," Dameron mumbled.

He hadn't realized Vox was still beside him until the human felt the Volth's claw on his arm, pinching slightly.

"Pohhhhhhhhhhhhwwaaaah," Vox said, presenting Dameron to the others.

Poe bowed his head, and before he had time to offer his gratitude again, he heard the hum. It started out softly, almost wistful. But one Volth voice was joined by another, and another, multi-layered, spanning several octaves. Other Volths gathered around the fire, some incorporating intricate harmonies in the mix and off-beat rhythms to rise above the collective drone. The humming melody reminded Poe of woven strands made of multiple colors, stitched together to create a vibrant tapestry. And still more came to sit around the fire as the humming continued—old Volths that hobbled around even more slowly than their middle-aged neighbors, using walking sticks for stability. Young volths –-mere babies that mewled in their mothers' arms, mouths puckering adorably. The other younglings who were old enough to walk on hind legs clumped together, watching him curiously. Dameron was swept up in the sound, the humming's vibrations stirring emotions in his chest until he felt a tear slide down his cheek despite the fact that he was tough and Resistance and that he lost his own mother years ago.

They were welcoming him.

The pilot was unaware of how much time had passed, but he eventually felt his eyes begin to droop. And when his eyes opened, the fire was still blazing before him, but the humming had stopped. Vox grabbed his arm, its slightly dopey face gazing at him, head cocked inquisitively.

"Seeeeeeeeee-yaaaaaaaaaahhhhhlp. Laaaahhhhhhhihhhhs."

"Sorry," Poe said, rubbing his eyes like he was a little kid again. He yawned furiously. "Mus' be tired."

Then half a dozen Volths were at his side, helping him stand, supporting his stiff limbs, guiding him away from the crackling bonfire towards another section of their village. In the darkness, Poe was nearly blind, but he trusted their methodical movements, not even minding the dawdling pace. It actually felt nice, and he wasn't entirely sure his foggy mind could keep up with anything faster at the moment. The small group of Volths led him to a canvas tent, opening its flap. Inside, it was warm and dark. Poe could just barely make out the vines decorating the walls and an assortment of paintings hanging haphazardly along them.

Dameron stopped abruptly when his feet met a plump cushion—a set of blankets stacked on top of a cot sewn from plant fibers. Poe would have fallen down instantly if it weren't for the Volths' strong arms, but they caught him firmly, setting him down, tucking him in. It felt _wonderful._

In the back of his exhausted brain, Dameron suddenly remembered his friend.

"Rey," he whispered.

But Dameron was too tired to worry. He gave in to the softness of the blanket, the warmth and darkness of the Volth home, and the soft purr of Vox in his ear.

And he fell into the deepest, most peaceful sleep he had experienced for months.

TBC

 **A/N:** You are all too good to me! Special thanks this time around to **Honey** and **General Fox**. I'm so glad you still like this little story. Let me know how I'm doing.

Next chapter: Han and Ben and father-son _bonding._ Poe needs to go back for BB-8. And Rey will get better. I promise.

It's kind of strange (but also amazing) to write Poe with a voice now.

And, yes, the Volths have hover-skates. Because they are the epitome of BAMF. They also use another mode of transportation that I think you will enjoy reading about in the next chapter. Until then!

~Ista


	27. Wave Through the Daylight

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 27: Wave Through the Daylight**

Ben concentrated putting one foot in front of the other and ignored the sweat running into his eyes. He pretended that he was navigating along a smooth, paved walkway rather than vegetation. Vines grabbed at his legs, and branches rolled his ankles. He pretended that the weight he carried close to his chest was nothing more than a sack of grain used for training purposes. He pretended that he had to march through the jungle, in tune with the Force activating his senses, because Skywalker or Snoke had commanded him to do so. For his own good. Hard work would earn him a reward, and Ben would enjoy all the water he wanted when he reached his goal. He pretended that a whole lake-full of water would await him very soon. Very soon. He pretended that it wouldn't be long now. Not long now…

"I know you're tired."

Ben pretended that he was alone. All alone on a deserted island. Just his sweat and his dry throat and the sack of grain (not _a living breathing person who also saved my life)_ and the promise of water.

He stopped abruptly, a cold chill running through him. He looked down and finally acknowledged Finn.

Because the ex-stormtrooper had stopped breathing.

"You're tired and you must be dehydrated," continued the hallucination of his father, almost running into the back of his son when Ben stopped because the _Falcon's_ most famous pilot wasn't looking. "But you're doing really well and—"

"Shut up," Ben said quietly. Han's eyes grew wide as the spirit focused on Finn's too-still form.

Ben slowly dropped to his knees, taking Finn with him, bringing the limp body up closer. One hand cradled the other man's neck, the other staying firmly positioned on his chest. Then Solo closed his eyes, grit his teeth, and imagined the heart beat inside Finn's ribcage, the one that had dictated and syncopated his own steps up to that moment.

"You're not going to die," he whispered to Finn as the ambient sounds of the jungle crescendoed around them. He spread his hands over Finn's chest, convoking the Force to _heal_ , to _help,_ to _breathe_ , to wake him.

Seconds passed, and Solo believed it was all over. His head began to dip towards the other man's chest. And then Finn gasped, his eyes opening, dots of liquid brown floating on an eggshell. His head jerked forward, as if waking from a nightmare.

Solo steadied him, whispering nonsense while sending clearer messages telepathically. Messages like _everything will be well we will find Rey and Poe will be there too you don't have to worry you're in my arms never thought this would ever happen what am I doing?_

Finn blinked foggily, and then his eyes rolled back up to his skull. Ben checked his breathing. Steady, even. _Fine. He was fine._

Solo felt like his bones had been inadvertently removed from his body and replaced with mush. His head sank forward onto his chest, shoulders slumped. He let himself sigh, almost smiling with this small success. And then he felt a _jolt_ like static electricity, the ghost of a hand on his shoulder.

Ben stood abruptly, hoisting Finn with a grunt and getting a better grip on him before trudging through the jungle once more, as if nothing had ever happened.

However, it was only a matter of time before the rascal who used to be his father piped up.

"I know you're feeling guilty."

Ben bit his lip, wanting to ignore his Han Solo, but knowing it would be pointless. Besides, the mindless chatter might take his mind off the fact that his mouth was dry and his muscles ached and he wanted to be far away from this place.

"Why would I be feeling guilty?"

"I know what you did back on the Chelandion when Finn wasn't looking. He was too tired to suspect you."

Solo kicked aside a protruding branch from his path. "I didn't do anything."

To be honest, everything after Nar Shaddaa had gotten a little hazy. Courtesy of Skywalker's happy pills.

Han wasn't biting. "You sent a hidden message to the First Order. To find you on Oskides."

Silence.

"How long do you think they'll take to get here?"

Ben remembered sending the communication now. It had taken him less than a minute. Finn was so exhausted, he hadn't even noticed. Just like the ex-stormtrooper hadn't noticed the message left for the barkeep in that grimy café on the Hutt's moon. Solo looked down at him and felt a pang of pity for the other man.

"Less than a day. Hux will have received the message I left the bartender on Nar Shaddaa and will have already been expecting another message."

Han flitted through a tree trunk as if he was made of smoke. "What are you trying to gain out of this? Because I understand if you're bent on killing Snoke and ruling the galaxy and threatening Hux with strangulation for the rest of your life. But, kid, that doesn't fit with what I taught you."

Solo sneered. _Here we go._

"And what DID you teach me? To be dishonest? To abandon my family? To give up the Alliance?"

"I never taught you to crave power, to manipulate and control."

Ben gave the see-through ghost a scathing look back as he trudged forward.

"Well, at least… Your _mother_ never taught you that."

Silence. A faint cry of a bird in the distance.

The ghost of Han Solo continued: "So, what happens next? You save his life only to give him and his friends over to the First Order? You know they're going to kill him, right? They're going to take Rey, and kill Finn and Poe. Is that what you want, son?"

Ben was reaching the end of his self-restraint.

Ban persisted. "Is that what you—"

"I don't KNOW!" Ben screamed, causing the surrounding wildlife to immediately hush. "Father…" He choked on the word as it came out of his mouth. "I don't know anymore. I thought… Maybe, if _I_ was the one to bring them back, Snoke would forgive me for being weak and… and I can s _ave_ them. I can persuade Hux to let Finn and Dameron go."

"And Rey?"

"I can protect her too."

"So you're going to go undercover in the First Order as Snoke's lapdog and _not tell anyone._ Yeah, that sounds like a _great_ plan."

"You don't understand! Snoke is too powerful!" Sweat ran down Ben Solo's back as he stopped mid-stride, trying to catch his breath. In his arms, Finn did not make a sound. A connection to the Force fully coming back to him, Ben felt his mind reach out to every living thing in the jungle. He called to plants, to animals, despairing.

Ben did not think he had ever felt so much physical power combined with such weakness of the mind before.

Han's wispy holographic form dissolved into thin air as his words echoed around them:

"Choose a side…"

* * *

Poe dreamt he was flying.

It was twilight, and he was flying over the canopy of a vast forest towards a bright orange sunset. Wind whipped through his hair, and he bent over, noticing the neon blues and greens of his unusual footwear—hover shoes!

Swooping low and arcing upwards, Dameron stretched his hands out. He could taste the wind on his tongue, feel the warmth of the setting sun, and he whooped with joy. The night time sounds of the jungle beneath him soon became a _hummmmm_ that filled his ears—

-and he awakened to the same sound with a smile on his face.

Sunlight streamed through the sheet-fort of sorts where he had fallen asleep the night before. Poe stayed very still, trying to keep hold of the feeling of his dream for as long as he possibly could, trying to remember what the wind had tasted like before it all slipped away. And then his stomach rumbled, and he drew a hand over his face, rubbing sleep-filled eyes.

When was the last time he had had a dream that he actually _wanted_ to remember?

Dameron stirred from the mountain of pillows he was lying on, removing the blanket on top of him gently and carefully folding it before getting to his feet. Stooping over to avoid knocking his head on the low ceiling, he admired the construction of the home he had slept in. It was collapsible and thus perfect if the Volths needed mobility, but the way they had crafted its skeleton allowed the home to mold into whatever tree they chose to affix it to. The sturdy canvas that acted as the fold-over roof was heavy-duty and waterproof but also flexible enough to adjust to any size of tree and lightweight enough so that most branches could support it. Truly, the Volths were amazing engineers!

Dameron stepped out of the tent's cover and shielded his eyes against the brilliance of the sun while stretching his stiff legs. Humidity from the jungle rose up, familiar and steamy, fragrant with vegetation and soil. He even caught a whiff of that delicious stew he had tasted the night before. Had that sublime concoction actually been made of bugs?

 _Last night was a dream…_

Poe struggled to remember all of the details of the night before—his brain had been so foggy with exhaustion. But he had remembered the Volths gathering around a fire, and the food, and—

"Rey!" he said, waking up further. He moved forward and nearly stepped on the paws of a familiar furry creature beneath him.

Dameron jerked back. "Vox!" he exclaimed. "Sorry, buddy!"

The Volth merely looked at him with its half-smile (as if it was perpetually dazed) and blinked slowly.

"Umm—good morning?" Poe tried.

"Pohhhhhhhhwwwwwwwwa," began Vox, a purr in its voice. "Eeeeeeeeeeeels pehhhhhth faaaaaaaaaaast."

Dameron had no clue what the Volth was on about, but he was pretty good at guessing.

"Yeah, I slept great." He rubbed the back of his neck, and realized just how true that statement was. "How long have I been out? Where's Rey?"

A tug of fear in his gut. He hadn't seen the young woman since the night before and was anxious to know how she was doing.

She had to be all right. She just _had_ to be okay.

When the Volth looked up at him quizzically, Poe licked his lips and tried again. "You remember Rey? Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayeeeeeeeeee?"

Vox blinked twice, pupils dilating with recognition.

 _Ding!_ thought Poe with relief. He was glad the fuzzy one eventually understood him, or he would have had to resort to charades. Strange how quickly he had forgotten other ways to communicate outside of spoken words…

The Volth silently slipped its taloned paw in his grasp and began leading him away from the tent where he had slept to another section of the village. The journey was painfully slow, but Dameron got to take in the sights of the Volth civilization in the daylight. Although decked out with lights made for a dazzling display at night, the Volth village was just as vibrant during the day—the fuzzy creatures still buzzed in the air above them via glowing hover-shoes, and the trills of Volthsong mixed with birds. All around him, Volths were busy cleaning, cooking, maintaining structures built into the trees. He spied many older Volths carving shapes out of wood with their sharpened claws and others painting using a variety of bright colors. Younger Volths sat in small clusters by the smoldering fire in the center of the village, working on tablets that looked like computers of some sort. Dameron was initially thrown off by the co-mingling of technology within a traditional hunter-gatherer community, but it seemed to work well for the Volths.

Eventually, Vox led Dameron to a shelter in a quiet section of the Volth community and held back its cream-colored canvas, allowing Poe to stoop and step through its entrance. He held his breath, preparing for what he was about to see.

His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he saw Rey lying on a giant woven mat. Her eyes were closed, but he could tell she was breathing from the way her chest rose and fell rhythmically. Her face was still pale, but there was a bit more color in her cheeks.

Another Volth appeared out of the shadows, a bright shock of white hair striping down its forehead. It bustled around then beamed at Poe, and its claws clacked together as a greeting.

Vox held out a paw, introducing the new Volth. "Vaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarm," it intoned.

"Varm," said Dameron with a respectful nod. "I'm Poe."

The pilot figured Varm was the doc around here as ze shuffled around. Dameron noticed shelves lining the walls of the tidy room filled with various boxes and vials and instruments whose purposes were all unknown to Poe and yet familiar.

"How is she doing?" he asked.

Varm rubbed a paw over Rey's arms, indicating the lack of discoloration. Gone were the purple tendrils of poison running along her veins. Then Varm closed its eyes, feigning sleep.

"Just has to rest, huh?" Poe let out a breath he'd been holding. "That's good. I—I mean…" Dameron took one of Varm's claws and shook it up and down, smiling. "Thank you!"

Then Vox ushered him out of the doctor's tent and back into the bright sunlight. They spent the next few hours getting more tasty bug stew (there was a communal pot in the center of the village that Volths could dip into at their leisure) and ambling around the community. Dameron befriended another Volth—a youngling named Vlu—who enjoyed zipping around Poe on its hover-shoes. It also had an affinity for chirping, so that ze seemed to be more bird than Volth at times. The chirping brought another thought to mind that Poe had completely forgotten about in his concern over Rey's wellbeing.

"BB-8!" he exclaimed, kicking up dust excitedly with his boots. "Vox—we gotta go back and get BB-8!"

The Volth looked at him, confusion plain on its round face.

Dameron bit his lip. How to get this idea across to the other being?

He pointed to the jungle in the direction they had come from. "I have to go _back_. I have to get my friend so I can repair it."

Pointing at the jungle seemed to make the Volth understand, and it bobbed its furry head gradually.

After checking on Rey again (her condition was unchanged), Poe picked up a canteen of water that was for sharing in the town's center circle and put some fruit in his pocket. He couldn't remember how long it had taken them to travel from where the _Falcon_ was parked to the Volth village, but he assumed it would be a faster trip getting there. Getting _back_ was the hard part, and he hadn't quite figured out how he was going to haul the droid back to the village. Maybe he and Vox could stay in the _Falcon_ for a day or two until he was able to repair BB-8. Maybe Finn and Ben would find them. Kriff, there was a chance that Finn and Ben were _waiting_ for him there, wondering where he was. And then he could stay with BB-8 while the others re-joined Rey.

But what if the others _weren't_ waiting at the _Falcon_ when he and Vox got there? It would mean leaving Rey all alone in the Volth village. Not that Dameron didn't trust the Volths—he would stake his _life_ on Vox with how much the fuzzy creature had helped him and the young Jedi… but what if Rey's condition deteriorated? What if she needed him back at the camp and he was gone?

Dameron thought of another option: He could possibly get BB-8's motivator working at a rudimentary level relatively quickly so that he could effectively _roll_ it back to the Volth village, but it would be time-consuming. And _carrying_ the heavy spherical droid was out of the question.

Poe huffed a sigh. _Enough speculation. Let's hope that Finn and Ben made it._

"Vaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahx?" Poe called playfully, his voice carrying through the town circle, mimicking the purr of the Volth voice.

When his furry buddy appeared, it took his hand and began guiding him in the opposite direction of the _Falcon._

"Hey hey hey! I think you've gotten turned around, pal!" Dameron tugged at the Volth, but Vox's grip was firm, and it continued pulling the pilot along, northeast. Although they sauntered at a typically slow pace, they eventually left the village behind and Dameron found himself in another clearing. This one was massive compared to the clearing he and Rey had landed the _Falcon_ in. It was a wide field covered with a carpet of light green grass and clumps of delicate white flowers. And it wasn't empty.

Poe's eyes widened.

"What in the…"

And it suddenly made a lot of sense why Vox had been leading him to this place.

Dameron had only seen hot air balloons in pictures before, and he was certainly expecting nothing like them in relation to the Volth culture. But here it was—a brilliant, enormous, multi-colored balloon with a sturdy basket at its base, held down at four points with weighted sacks filled with stones.

A crowd of four Volths meandered their way from the balloon to greet him and Vox. One of them had massive goggles covering its dark brown eyes, giving it a slightly daring look.

"A Volth after my own heart!" Poe exclaimed, almost lost for words.

Vox introduced the goggle-clad Volth as "Vohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhlt!"

Volt had a smug grin on its furry face as it led the Resistance pilot to the open basket, showing off its assortment of tools and talking non-stop in a string of elongated syllables and consonants. Poe would have called this creature the "chattiest" Volth he had ever met. After its spiel, the Volth adjusted its goggles and seemed to wait for Dameron's response, its claws running up and down the woven mesh of the balloon.

Poe didn't even have to think about it. "Let's do this!"

The Volth immediately used a lighter of some sort to get the burner suspended above them working. Poe noticed its assistants slowly pull back large fans from the vicinity. _Those must have been used to get the balloon filled in the first place_ , Dameron speculated. The assistant Volths methodically removed the weights on the multi-colored envelope, and they began to ascend.

Touching off the ground, Poe gave a thumbs-up to Vox below, who was beaming up at him. And they were off!

The Volth balloon soon floated over the treetops and Dameron reveled in the familiar sensation of weightlessness—but this feeling was vastly different to the dramatic _rush_ of piloting Black One. Rather, the impression of flight via hot air balloon was of a gentle rocking and a _soaring_. No wonder the Volths preferred this method of long-distance travel, Dameron thought. Their homes were built into trees, and their balloons depended on the air currents to propel them.

Along the lines of propulsion, Dameron found that they were drifting farther south than necessary, and he tapped Volt on the shoulder, pointing slightly northwest to their current position.

"The _Falcon's_ over there!" he shouted above the howl of wind and the roar of the burner.

But the Volth only winked slyly and pushed Dameron with surprising strength towards one corner of the basket.

"Hey!" Poe interjected.

Volt joined him, crouching in the corner and peeking over the top of the basket, which was just over its height. Poe wondered if the balloon had originally been made for a taller humanoid creature. Dameron felt the wind whip through his hair and, slowly, the basket tilted and the balloon gradually changed course, dipping lower then soaring higher. The pilot noticed that his mouth was hanging open in surprise and consciously closed it.

"You're manipulating the air currents to stir it!" he exclaimed.

And although he knew Volt couldn't understand him, the little creature nodded slowly, adjusting the burner as it dipped down further.

Dameron scanned the ground and took a deep breath of relief when the _Millennium Falcon_ came into view below them.

"That's it!" he said, tapping Volt on the shoulder again.

Volt bobbed its head, and with its careful manipulations of the envelope, the balloon slowly sank directly onto the field. Like a gentle kiss, the woven basket touched down upon emerald waves of grass, several yards from the _Falcon._

Poe grinned from ear to ear as they exited the basket, and he stretched his limbs. He had only begun walking towards Han Solo's old ship when a troubling thought entered his mind…

"Say, Volt… How are we gonna get back without those fans to blow up the balloon?"

Eerily, as if the Volth could understand him, ze pointed upwards. Dameron felt his jaw drop for the third time that day: Three more multi-colored balloons dotted the sky, dancing in the atmosphere above them.

TBC

 **A/N:** Another disclaimer …I've never flown in a hot air balloon, and I know nothing about them—so apologies if I got something horribly wrong. Hope you're enjoying this spike in Poe-bliss! (The poor guy went through so much that I wanted to give him a little break. Not that his suffering is over –mwah ha ha—but he's got a reprieve for now). Next chapter contains more Ben Solo angst. Will he ever reunite with Poe? Will Rey ever wake up? Will Finn survive? Tune into the next chapter… Thanks soooo much for your thoughtful reviews and kind favorites!

 **Honey:** I'm so glad you're enjoying the fic! I too love sloths—ha! If you enjoy the Ben/Han bonding, there's going to be an abundance of it in the next chapter too!

 **Nyla the lioness:** Thank you so much for continuing to read this little fic! I'm glad you're still enjoying the story. (hugs)


	28. I'll Be Your Light 'Til Doomsday

**Far Away From Nowhere**

 **Chapter 28: I'll Be Your Light 'Til Doomsday**

It was another beautiful dream.

Poe Dameron told others he didn't believe in serendipity or happenstance. He told others that he believed in skill and determination and talent. But he had been lying.

Because what else besides pure _luck_ could explain the fact that he was reuniting with one of his best friends in a sunny green field speckled with kaleidoscopic balloons?

"Gonna fix you right up, buddy," Poe whispered to the orange and white droid inside the _Falcon_ as Volt helped hoist it onto a movable board and secure ropes to it. "But first, we're going for a little ride. And you're gonna love it."

Dameron knew BB-8 couldn't hear him, but, nevertheless, he spoke soothing words to the droid as he tugged it across the field with Volt's help.

Once BB-8 was off the ship, Poe dashed back to the _Millennium Falcon_ to gather tools he would need to repair the droid, placing them in a small grey duffel bag he slung over his shoulder. Then he walked briskly down the gangplank and turned around once more, searching the line of the forest for any signs of life. His shoulders sunk with the realization that Finn and Ben hadn't made it to the _Falcon_. Something must have happened to them.

"Pohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhwaaaa!" came Volt's languorous call.

"Be right there!" Dameron shouted back.

 _I know you're out there, Finn,_ Poe thought, sending the thought as a silent prayer, like a beacon. _Ben, if you can hear me—find us._

Then Dameron reluctantly turned around, striding through the tall grass.

Three other Volths had zoomed down on hover-skates from airborne balloons above them. Giant fans attached to parachutes, like puffy pillows, soon soared gently downwards as well, and the grounded Volths gathered these fans to get Volt's balloon inflated.

With a few grunts, Volt and Poe managed to push the heavy droid into the balloon's basket. There was barely enough room for the Volth and human to stand upright while inside it now.

Dameron cocked his head at the arrangement, and he yelled over the roar of the fans. "You sure this thing's gonna take off with BB-8's weight?" He said loudly over the drone of the fans, tapping the droid's metal shell.

Volt grinned slowly and adjusted their pilot's goggles at a wild angle. Its sharp claws indicated the almost-filled balloon. "Aaaaaaaaaarng stuuuuuuuuuuuuuhg."

Poe imagined it was Volt's way of saying, "Don't worry about it."

The roar of ignition, the weightless lift of take-off. The other Volth helpers waved at them as they floated away, ever-present smiles widening. Soon their bodies were small brown dots in a sea of green, and Dameron was soaring, back where he was comfortable, back in the environment he had been born for. Volt seemed to agree with his sentiments as Poe smiled wordlessly at the fuzzy creature. Volt's fur ruffled in the wind, their wacky goggles reflecting splinters of sunlight as ze gazed on the endless treetops below. Volt tugged on one of the balloon's ropes, and they turned slightly, dipping lower and skimming whipped clouds before soaring back up.

"It's gonna be all right," Dameron said to BB-8, and he placed a hand on the top of the droid's circular head, keeping it there. He said it more to comfort himself than his malfunctioning companion.

Then he closed his eyes and turned his face to the sun.

* * *

 _Ben, if you can hear me—find us._

Poe's voice rang so loudly in Solo's mind that he stumbled along the muddy path, nearly dropping Finn. Like a bell, the words reverberated around his skull, making his teeth chatter. There was no spit to swallow, but he leaned against a nearby tree and closed his eyes in near-desperation.

 _I can't do this. I don't have enough strength. Father…_

But Han Solo's apparition had inexplicably disappeared hours ago. Ben Solo was on his own.

A fleeting thought: If Dameron's message had come through so clearly, perhaps he was close by. Maybe only a bit farther to go.

Although impossible to prove, the idea gave the former dark lord enough strength to renew his grip on Finn's motionless body and continue along the jungle path. In a matter of minutes, he reached the clearing, and the massive frame of his father's old ship loomed in the distance.

Ben cried out, nonsensical words running together as he sprinted towards the _Falcon._ Finn was suddenly light in his arms, and he moaned softly.

"Poe! Rey!" Solo shouted, his voice hoarse from dehydration and underuse.

But he stopped abruptly before he reached the gangplank. The Force had already given him all the information he needed. The ship was abandoned.

Ben's wobbly legs made it as far as the cot Poe had pulled down for Rey, and he set Finn down before collapsing in the corridor. His breath came out harsh, ragged. He had failed at finding them, and Finn would die. All because of him.

 _-Be strong, young apprentice._

Ben Solo shut his eyes tight and groaned. "No….Not you…."

An icy chill swept across his shoulders like a shadow's shawl, and natural light filtering through the ship's windows took on a grey tone. It was Snoke. His old master was back, and he was breathing down Ben's neck.

 _-Finish what your grandfather started. It is all coming together. Our ships are coming for you and will be on Oskides soon. Yes, soon. And the others will come back to this place—_

"Rey?" Ben mumbled, weak, thirsty.

 _-Yes, the girl will come looking for you. And she will fall into our hands. Into_ your _hands._

Is that what Ben wanted? He couldn't remember anymore.

"But…Finn," he whispered, stealing a glance at the still body across from him. The ex-stormtrooper's chest rose up and down.

 _-He is a traitor, Ren. He will either die here or face a traitor's death in the First Order._

No matter how much Ben tried to keep the Supreme Leader's visage out of his sight, he was impossible to ignore forever. Finally, the young man gave up and stared into the hollow, dead eyes of his old master, hovering over his right shoulder.

 _-Good. Very good. You have been confused, drugged, taken from us. Reclaim your place at my side. Reclaim your title as Kylo Ren._

"That's not his name!"

Ben's head jerked up in surprise to find his father on his left, appearing as a young man once more, standing cockily propped up against a wall of the _Falcon._ Han Solo folded his arms casually.

"Don't listen to a thing that skeleton says, Ben. He's a monster."

Snoke drew up like a wraith, black folds of his robes dissolving like mist into the floor. He hissed.

 _-Remember your grandfather, Kylo. Remember the plans he made—the plans you were born to carry out._

Han adopted a fighting stance. He spoke softly yet urgently. "Ben, there are still rations on this ship. You can find enough to eat to keep going and keep Finn alive."

 _-Would you abandon the First Order? Will you abandon your training?_

Ben placed his hands over his throbbing temples. The two voices were competing for his attention, tearing his concentration apart, and destroying his ability to think clearly.

"Just… Go away! Both of you!" What he intended as a scream came out as a whimper.

His father's voice was even softer now, in contrast to Snoke's rising screeches. "I always believed in you, Ben. And I always loved you. Even when I was too stupid and selfish to say it. You can _do_ this, Ben. You can listen for their voices again and _sense_ them and _find_ them."

 _-Ignore your foolish father. What did he ever care about your abilities? What did he know of the power of the Dark Side?_

"Keep going. Save his life."

 _-You are Kylo Ren…._

"Hey! Snoke!"

Ben looked up through tear-blurred vision, his body shaking, to find his father pointing a blaster at Snoke.

"What did I say?" Han said, his voice simultaneously teasing and deadly serious.

Snoke snarled like a wild creature, raising a crooked claw towards the ghost of his father.

"That's not his name," Han said and pulled the trigger. A beam of red light shot through Snoke's form, and the translucent Supreme Leader disappeared in a swirl of black and an unearthly shriek that echoed through the _Millennium Falcon's_ hull.

Ben gaped at Han. His father merely winked and disappeared. And Ben was on his own again.

It seemed to take him an eternity to stand, but Ben eventually rose to his feet on quaking legs and staggered down the corridor. He opened compartments sporadically, pinpointing hazy memories of where Rey and Finn might have stored provisions. The storage shelves were well-stocked with protein bars, but there was no sign of water. Sighing, Ben eyed the nutritional supplements with a growling stomach. He knew eating one would only serve to further dehydrate him. He pocketed a handful of them just in case and rummaged through several other drawers until his hands groped something cool and cylindrical—a flask!

He opened it, sloshing its meager contents, and took a sip. His eyes fluttered at the sweetness of the water as it slid down his throat. Hungrily, he wanted to drink more, but his thoughts led back to Finn, and his emerging conscience couldn't turn a blind eye on the other man.

Cursing his newly-found weakness towards others, Ben shuffled back to the ex-stormtrooper's prone form and knelt beside him.

"Finn…Finn!" he said in a choked gasp. "Water, Finn… Water…"

The other man's eyes opened blearily.

"Ben—" he started, but Solo silenced him with a command.

"Drink."

He tilted Finn's head and held the flask steady. Finn drank the paltry amount of water until the container was empty. Then he licked his lips as Ben set his head back, and Finn was asleep.

Ben's eyes stung, his dry tongue smacked against his lips, and he threw the flask to the floor with a metallic _clang_ _ **.**_ It wasn't fair that he was still thirsty.

 _But Finn needed it more,_ he told himself. It was this calmer, more rational part of himself that forced his frame to stand and grab hold of Finn, feeling the smooth half-circle of the ex-stormtrooper's back brace. The first attempt at picking him up was unsuccessful—Ben's arms quivered uncontrollably. He straightened his shoulders, mouth a grim straight line, and tried again. And, once again, Finn remained on the cot.

Solo's legs buckled when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder from an unseen figure. Scared at first, he relaxed into the touch, because it wasn't Snoke. In fact, it was the complete opposite.

The voice of his father morphed into Luke Skywalker's calm, even tone.

"Use the Force, Ben."

Solo closed his eyes and tapped into that energy that surrounded him and was always wth him, unseen and yet ever-present. It was in the wind and the sunshine and underneath stones. It was in the invisible hand holding him up, and it was strong enough to carry Finn too.

Ben's palms turned upwards, and Finn's body lifted in the air, floating soundlessly down the corridor of the _Falcon_. In a trance, Ben followed the body down the gangplank, through the meadow, and back into the jungle. He barely noticed the blue and white shuttle they passed by before stepping deeper into the forest, continuing his journey.

* * *

"Easy, easy," Poe said as the group of Volths settled BB's body a few feet from Rey's bedside. Varm, the doc, clacked his claws together in annoyance, giving the Resistance pilot a clear "What do you think you're doing?" look.

"Just fixing my friend, Varm," said Poe cheerfully and patted the immobile droid on its head. "Won't hardly make a sound. I promise." He beamed brightly, and it was enough reassurance for the doctor to amble outside, followed by the other Volths, except Vox. Poe's furry companion was overjoyed to reunite with Dameron and meet BB-8; Poe could tell by the way Vox's fur fluffed out, and how its continuous smile grew wider.

"Ohhhhhhhd royyyyyyyyeeeee spaaaaaayyyyk?"

"Yeah, this is my friend," explained Poe. He removed the satchel from his shoulders, setting it down, and beginning to arrange its assortment of tools on the ground. Beside him, Rey continued sleeping peacefully.

Vox took a tentatively slow step to the droid and then reached out a hesitant paw. Ze tapped the shell mildly with a claw and made a pleased wheezing sound. Vox's eyes lit up.

"Naaaaaaaaaaaaaame?"

Poe had successfully taught Vox this word in Basic. He paused for a moment at the Volth's elongated pronunciation, then: "BB-8."

"Beeeeeeeeee beeeeeeeeeeee aaaaaaaaaaaaate?"

"That's it!" Poe said with a chuckle and started working on the droid. Vox watched his every movement closely with curiosity and wonder.

Poe had only been working a half hour at the most when he was aware of a sudden pervasive silence in the Volth village. The sun had just begun to sink beneath the horizon, and Dameron thought at first that the Volths had gathered for a communal ceremony of some kind, but when he saw Vox's ears twitch instinctively, he knew something unusual was going on.

Dameron set down his tools. "Vox—what is it?"

The Volth slowly shook its head, and that's when Poe heard the noises—high pitched squeals that could only be emitted by several Volths in distress.

Poe felt for the blaster on his hip. "Kriff," he muttered. Thoughts of the First Order invading Oskides crossed his mind.

 _No, if it was the FO, there would already be the sound of blaster fire._ This somewhat calming thought temporarily allayed his fear, but he still had to see what was going on.

Swiftly, Poe ducked outside, brushing aside the tent flap. A cool breeze stirred against his cheeks, and there were fresh cries coming from the southern section of the forest—the path that Vox had led him from the _Falcon_ to reach their village.

Speaking of Vox, the furry beast tugged at his pant leg, so Poe lifted it with a grunt, carrying his friend while racing through the Volth village, making only rustling sounds.

It didn't take him long to reach the edge of camp. A group of Volths were gathered in a semi circle around figures that seemed to materialize out of the darkness of the woods. Mothers clutched babies and held younglings close to them. Some of the young adults, Vlu among them, hovered above the others, their postures tense, as if waiting for an order to attack. The lights on their hover-shoes glowed blue and green, unnatural in the fading sun's rays. In general, there was a feeling of uneasiness and a dueling set of emotions; Poe picked out terror, awe, and confusion. Poe didn't blame them—it was quite a spectacle.

Finn hung limply, suspended in the air. Even from a distance, Poe spied an ugly gash on his temple that made him wince. Behind Finn, Ben Solo appeared at the forest's edge like a ghost. His face gleamed paler than moonlight, and though his concentration appeared to be unwavering, Dameron could see his extended hands shake.

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeegaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Vox cried out, scrambling from the pilot's grasp and landing with a _thump_ on the ground. Ze spread its forearms along the short grass, bent over. Slowly, the other Volths followed suit and began to prostrate themselves before Finn and Ben.

"No—No, it's all right! They're not gods!" Poe said emphatically. He gripped Vox by the arm and hauled the furry being upright. "They're just people, like me." He put his hands on his chest and then indicated the others. A glimmer of understanding in Vox's eyes and the other Volths too. In a daze, they got on their hind legs.

For one moment, Poe's heart froze in his chest as his eyes flashed from Finn to Ben and back to Finn. Was the ex-stormtrooper even breathing? Dameron wanted to go to them, but it was as if his feet were stuck in the thick mud of the swamps back on Yavin IV.

"Is he…?" The pilot's words stuck in his throat.

Ben's eyes were piercing—perhaps not expecting Poe to speak, and his voice cracked. "No."

Then, it was as if the spell had been broken. Poe rushed up and plucked Finn out of the air like a starblossom. In response to his touch, the ex-stormtrooper moaned. Volths were automatically at Poe's side—so many of them—taking Finn from his hands to bare him away.

"Vaaaaaaaaaaarm," said Poe hastily, as if the physician's name needed mentioning amid the sea of fur and claws. "This one needs help."

But even as he was passing off Finn to his new furry friends, Dameron felt an invisible hand holding onto Finn—a barrier that stopped the Volths in their tracks, refusing to let go of the Resistance captain.

In the waning light, Poe's head snapped back to Ben Solo. The former dark lord was still standing, solitary, arms outstretched, eyes wide open. He was still carrying Finn.

Dameron dashed over to the other man, taking in his shredded clothes, his haunted eyes. _What happened to them?_ Poe wondered.

"You did it," Dameron said gently, as if he was talking to that scared boy in the giant tree so many years ago. "You made it here. He's safe. You can let go now."

Ben blinked, but he remained rigid and unmoving, refusing to acknowledge Poe's request.

Dameron put a hand on Ben's arm and applied a slight pressure. His voice dropped to a whisper: "Ben, let go…"

Solo's hands fell to his sides, and he watched as the Volths carried Finn away. Then, stiffly, Ben turned to face Poe, his eyes shiny and full of fear. He opened his mouth to speak.

"It's okay," Poe said. "You don't have to apologize."

Ben let out a breath, and his shoulder slumped, as if all the energy had flown out of him. _Like a deflated balloon,_ Poe thought fleetingly. Then Solo's eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he teetered to the side. Dameron caught him in a quick embrace, whispering soothing words: "You're safe. You did it."

But Ben couldn't hear him. Dameron slung one of Ben's arms over his shoulder, shuddering at how thin he had become over the months spent in captivity on D'Qar. Then Poe carried him to Varm's tent, knowing that he would never think badly of Ben Solo ever again. Despite his own background and contrary nature, Ben had made a pivotal choice. He had saved Finn.

Everything had changed.

TBC

 **A/N:** Anyone still reading? Next chapter-Everyone gets better and the final stretch of this fic begins. Yes—we are officially in the homestretch, folks. Thanks for sticking with me.

P.S. Han always shoots first.

 **Nyla the lioness:** Thanks again for reading! I'm glad you enjoyed the hot air balloons.


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